I Want You, But God Do You Scare Me
by Just.Pieces.In.Their.Games
Summary: Sadism and masochism: Two things Katniss never paid any mind to, barely even knew about. Then she meets Peeta, who she finds out is deeply involved in the strange sensual ways. He sickens her, her instincts telling her he's a freak. But god is he alluring. He shows her what it's like to be with a man, and she's appaled when she can't resist him. He desires both pain and dominance.
1. Chapter 1

My mother. Ugh, my mother… She's just told me I can't go to a party at Madge's house. Madge! What does Madge ever do wrong? She is _not _some scandalous teen who'd invite boys with beer and raging hormones to her house. It's just a few close friends. Besides, what authority does mom have when she's not here?

It's December. It's cold, sleet assaulting the windows, making it impossible to hear the TV. "Katniss!" Prim cries, shocking me. I jump off of the couch, padding into the kitchen.

"What did you do?" I gasp, seeing our hideous… well, I'll call it a cat for now, lapping up orange juice that's all over the floor, seeping under the fridge and even worse, on my socks. "Ew…" I breathe.

"I'm sorry," Prim, my one and only twelve year old sister mutters, clasping, twisting and twiddling her thumbs, giving me a small, unconfident smile.

"Did your fingers disintegrate when you tried to pick up the orange juice?" I hiss, taking off my socks and sneering as I try to get to Prim, stepping _in _the pulpy liquid. I pick up the fallen juice jug. "Go get some towels." I mutter, putting it in the sink whilst the doorbell chimes. "And the door!" I call after her as she scurries away. I shake my head and glare at Buttercup. That's the damn cat's name. So… original, isn't it? I smack him away as he tries to continue drinking it. I try to get him to come back when I realize it could be bad for him, but he's gone.

"Katniss, it's for you!" Prim yells. Such a little lady.

"Who is it, Prim?" I yell back, annoyed.

"Madge!"

"Send her in!"

Moments later, Madge saunters in to the kitchen, looking down on me, her mouth formed into a perfect '_o_'. I look to her. She's blonde, small and beautiful. She wears leather boots, black jeans and a heavy black coat. "What _happened_?" she asks, stressing the second word.

"The orange juice exploded. Are you mourning a loss, or something?" I mumble, nodding to her all-black attire. She looks down at herself, simultaneously stepping away from the mess on the ground.

"No," she snaps, "I was about to go out on a date." She grins sweetly, grabbing the ends of her long coat, twirling sweetly.

I smirk. "Oh, I see. Mourning the loss of your virginity." She gapes at me, and then tilts her head back and laughs.

"No. No orgasms of any kind on the first date." She chuckles. My eyes grow. She better pray Prim didn't hear that, since she now idles in the living room. Even though I pin her under my gaze, she still can't suppress her giggles.

I tug on the end of my sided French braid and ask, "So, who is he? ... Wait, Prim, where's the towel?!" I hear her feet against the wood floor once more, running to the closet down the hall.

"His name is Peeta. Oh god, Katniss, he's hot!" she gushes, getting so excited her cheeks grow red. I study her a moment. Wow… She's gussied up in her sky-high heels, glossed lips and tight jeans, giddy over a boy she thinks is cute. I'm standing in orange juice. Such a bachelorette.

She sees my lack of keeping attention, visually tensing and changing the subject. "So where's your mom?"

"She's off on business already, you know that." I say, narrowing my eyes. My mother does this often. Right now, she's off to Portland, showing big mansions off to big time people. She doesn't think I'll misbehave because honestly, she thinks I have no sexual drive. I kind of don't.

"Oh yeah…" she murmurs, giving me a wry smile.

"What?"

"Well, I told Peeta to pick me up from here. I knew your mom wasn't here and my ma doesn't know I'm going on a date." She tells me.

"Really Madge?" I whine. She nods, happy with herself. I nod down to what I'm wearing. I know Madge, I know how she works. She's going to fuss with her makeup just when this guy decides to arrive.

"Katniss, you're beautiful, you always are. Just, answer the door when he comes. I'll be right back." She grins again; _tap tap tapping_ away to the bathroom.

"Good grief…" I murmur, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. I hadn't realized Prim had tossed the towel onto the counter as Madge and I had talked. I take it and begin to clean. Was the "you're beautiful" romp necessary? She knows when she tells me those lies they go in one ear, out the other. I stand, wringing out the towel in the sink and start over again. Eventually, there's a knock on the door. _Too cool to ring a bell, Hot Stuff?_

So I stand and I walk, standard procedure, but what isn't is the feeling I get when I near the door. Strangely, I don't want to open it. I want to dramatically lock it and back away with shitty horror movie music blaring. _Why?_ I shake my head, grabbing the knob reluctantly. I twist and pull, agonizingly slow. I lift my eyes to the stranger on the porch.

He's… gorgeous. He has short blonde hair and he's all… stout and muscular. My brain works at half of the speed it usually does as I register his perfect, small smile. _What the hell is this? I never salivate over boys!_ "H-hi," I gasp finally, coming back to reality for air. He tilts his head to one side, studying me. I narrow my eyes. "Madge'll be ready soon."

He nods, his eyes dashing down to my lips. I cock an eyebrow. "Come in, if you want." I drone. As he nods his polite thanks, stepping in. Every girl gene in my body tells me "_Push the fucker out of your house!"_ My inner voices use horrid words, don't they? I step far away from... Peeta, that's his name.

He smiles modestly down on me. "I'm Peeta, by the way." He offers softly, affirmatively. He holds out his hand for me to shake, and I hear the commotion of Madge's high heels and Prim giving her a compliment.

I step back, muttering "Yeah I know." Peeta's perfect little brow furrows, curious and confused. I'm appalled when his confusion turns into coy amusement. He puts his hand back down by his side, lifting his eyes from mine and smiling warmly at Madge. _What the hell is with the change in attitude?_

"Hi Peeta." She grins at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Some form of fear grips my heart when Madge informs him: "This is Katniss Everdeen. It's her house." My eyes grow wider, but I hide it when Peeta smiles at me again.

"Really?" He mutters, giving me a look I feel I need to return challengingly. I stop my urge, the slightest scorn showing in my features though. Madge sends me a disapproving look as Peeta chuckles, which concerns her. "You don't approve of me?" he asks.

"You could say that." I utter. His blue eyes light up.

Before he or I can say any more, Madge cuts in: "We're going to go now. Goodbye, Katniss." Her words are curt as she pushes her newly found boy toy out the door. I can't shut it behind them quickly enough.

* * *

Peeta is eventually forgotten, but the uneasy feeling he gave me stays. At 11 o'clock, I sit and watch some old Ellen reruns, one with Ryan Gosling. He's funny and cute. Why can't I meet a guy like that I'm attracted to? I hate the name Ryan, though. Prim is asleep soundly upstairs in her room. Our house is… I won't say big, but not small. The inside is lavish, too much so. I don't like it.

I jump as someone bangs on the door. I stand and when I'm halfway there, it swings open, and I'm pinned under Madge's gaze. "What the hell was that about?" She snarls at me.

"You bursting in my house?" I ask sarcastically.

"Katniss, don't fuck with me."

"Why, because Peeta wouldn't?" I snap, clapping a hand over my mouth. _Where the hell did that come from? _"Wait, Madge, I'm sorry. That… wasn't supposed to be said." Our usual unfriendly, joking banter just pops out when we're fighting and it… it hurts. Wait, why are we fighting? "What'd I do?"

"You were fifty shades of hostile towards Peeta. He was in a trance all night!" She spits. She's _mad_. She looks like she's been running a hand through her once perfect hair.

"Madge, I-I'm sorry." I stammer. She shakes her head, looking down at her feet and loosening her clenched fists.

"I just don't understand you sometimes." She breathes, and I ask if she'll stay for a while. "No Katniss. I'm going. Bye." She turns on her heel, walking out of my house and slamming my door behind her. It's my job to slam that door! I pinch the bridge of my nose, Peeta's smile stuck in my head. It's sickening and frightful to a woman like me with even a pinch of self-preservation. Well, not a woman, a seventeen year old girl, just a girl with a dirty mouth and a disturbed mind. Thoroughly disturbed by that blonde goddess.

* * *

**Authors note: This story will eventually have heavy smut. DO NOT GO ON IF YOU DON'T LIKE SMUT. Alright? I don't want to deal with complaints. Just enjoy the coming sex. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry if it's a bit boring, the first few chapters always are.**

I wake up late the next day to Prim's expense. A Sunday morning and she doesn't get to eat until noon. I stand and I stretch, looking at my calendar of which, above it, has a picture of a polar bear, a white barren land behind it. It's December 18, and Prim and I are done for school until January 7th.

I head downstairs to find my dearest sister has raided the kitchen and made herself a bowl of cereal already. "Aren't you a smart little thing?" I mutter to myself, putting away the left out Cheerios box. I snatch an apple from table, going and sitting on the couch. Of course, the second my ass hits the cushion, the doorbell chimes. I groan, reminding myself Prim is momentarily missing and put it on the backburner, answering the door as I bite into my apple.

My jaw goes slack as I stare into assertive blue eyes. Peeta. "What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, uncaring of my courtesy or lack thereof. It makes him laugh.

"Your 'I hate you' vibe is much clearer without your friend around." She says coolly. He's wearing a black coat, blue jeans and heavy boots. His cheeks glow red in the freezing air. I begin to shiver as well, but I'm not letting this guy in my house.

"My _friend_? That's what you're calling the girl you took out on a date last night?" I snap, "And _what the hell are you doing here?_" My words are slower as I repeat my question.

"I wanted to see you. You intrigued me, Katniss." My name rolls off of his lips in a very sexual way, making me shiver even more. "I can imagine you're cold."

"You're damn right I'm cold." I say, "Mostly because I'm talking to you."

"Ouch…" He clamps his heart sarcastically, "Baby, that hurt."

My blood is now roaring in my veins. "Don't you fucking call me that!" I hiss, "I am not your '_baby'_." He couldn't give two shits about what I just said to him. He ignores completely.

"Can I come inside?"

"No!"

A grin. "What part of this is amusing?" I ask, closing the door slightly in case he tries to invade.

"Are you hiding from me?" he asks, a very scary playfulness twinkling in his eye. Where did Madge find this guy?

"I'm trying to. Non-effectively." I murmur. He chuckles, placing a hand on the door and pushing slightly. I plant myself to the ground and add "My house, my rules. You step in here: I'll kick you in the nuts." He grins again.

"I'm fine with that…" he purrs. He pushes a little harder but makes no move to actually come inside. He's just deriving a snicker from my reaction.

"Katniss?" Prim's sweet voice says behind me. I stop fighting Peeta, looking to her. "What are you doing?" She stands in the hall, holding Buttercup.

I look back to the blonde, blue eyed creep, telling Prim as I lock eyes with him, "Nothing, Little Duck, go watch TV." It takes her a while to finally obey, and after I ordered her, Peeta looks at me in a new light. His eyes are wide and mischievous, his eyebrows raised.

"Will you be at Madge's party?" he asks suddenly.

"Y-yes."

He smirks, purring "I'll see you there."

* * *

I suddenly highly regret what I've done, anxiety building in my stomach. Prim is spending the night at her friend Rue's. I am off to Madge's party. I'm hoping that fucked up Peeta will have his eyes on someone else, preferably Madge. I mean, they did just go out to dinner. Keeping one firm hand on the steering wheel, I look down at myself. A tight black dress, hugging what little curves and bumps I have, converse and a necklace is all I wear. I would wear heels it's just… I don't have any. My hair is in a ponytail, and I actually bothered to put some mascara on. My eyes soon return to the road which is alight with the lights from Christmas decorations reflecting off of the wet tar. Madge's house isn't far from mine, just a block or two. I'm too lazy to walk them, you know, not excited about this enough. In fact, I'm dreading it.

I pull into the familiar driveway which is full of unfamiliar cars. Scratch that. One I recognize and I know where from. It was in my driveway the other night and the next morning. I groan, turning the keys and dumping them in the center console. I struggle to throw on my mint green North Face, and as slowly as I dare, get out and walk to the door. I knock once, kind of hoping no one will hear and I'll be able to turn around and go home.

"Katniss!" Johanna says, grinning and hugging me. I give a pathetic, fake chuckle back as she pulls me in the door she answered. _Where is Madge? _

I'm let go of soon and the first person my eyes land on is Gale. What a relief he is to see; as tall as a skyscraper, sweet and handsome. Yes, I just said it. _Handsome_. Madge walks around the bend, seeing me and smiling as well. Our fight about Peeta is over, although I haven't told her about his midday visit a few days ago. The two went out again last night.

"Hey Kat," she says to me as I shrug off my coat, "nice shoes." I smile as she takes the jacket, rubbing my hands together as _it _walks into sight. _Him_. His blue eyes glow once again at the sight of me.

"Hi there." Peeta says softly to me, reaching me in three strides. He looks down on me, making me feel small. "It's good to see you again." His smile is shockingly genuine, and maybe it's because we're in public. His attire is not slimming, but makes him look bulky and muscular which I don't doubt he really is. I scoff.

"Such fond memories..." I mumble, brushing past him and, of course, he's quick to pursue.

"I would say so." He simpers, his proximity making me sick. "You look beautiful with makeup on." My eyes go wide and I turn to him.

"Didn't you just go out with Madge? I think maybe you're schizophrenic or something, because it wasn't me you took out." I snap.

His eyes morph and he gives me a soft, pained look. "That hurt too, baby."

"I _will _slap you in front of all of my friends." I threaten, "I told you not to call me that."

"Oh, please do Ms. Everdeen." He smiles, tipping his chin forward, waiting for me to follow up on my words. I cross my arms, turning and heading for Gale.

Gale can tell I'm stressed, unnerved even. His smile falters a bit and I'm shocked to see Peeta _still_ follows. I whirl around, my face inches from his. "Don't you already have an owner to give you treats? You're following me like a lost puppy, but I have nothing I'm willing to give you." I narrow my eyes.

"A treat from you? It sounds unrealistic." He soughs. I sneer, making him smile.

"Katniss?" Gale asks, intervening in the conversation that was too low for him to hear. I tell Peeta one last time to scram, turning and beginning a deep conversation with Gale.

* * *

As I predicted, the party is small, but a bit loud. I'd say there are 25 people here, all of them friendly and not strangers to me. I have felt uneasy the whole time though. If I ever catch Peeta's eyes, he makes a move.

I jump as his voice whispers behind me, "You sure are hard to hold on to." I put my soda can down on the counter, too exasperated to even speak to him in a civil manner.

"You're fucking hard to get rid of." I growl.

"Get rid of? Never going to happen, baby." He hums. I roll my eyes, picking up my Pepsi and drinking once again.

"What is it you want from me, anyway?" I ask, leaning against the marble counter.

"Is it too much to ask to just speak to you?" He pulls a barstool from the island over, sitting and looking at me, immobilizing me with those blue, oceanic eyes.

"There seems to always be an ulterior motive with you." I grumble.

"I get the message you're sending. I just want to talk to you." He croons, and I frown. This side of him is new and strange, and I put down my soda, raising my eyebrows, daring him to begin. "How old are you?"

"I'm seventeen." I say, and he's not exactly pleased with my answer. By that I can tell he's eighteen. Ulterior motive: still present.

"You look older. You frown a lot." He raises his hand, maybe to touch me, but wisely just rams it through his hair. _Is he getting annoyed now? _"You live with your parents?"

"Yeah, my mom." I'm reluctant, but add, "She's gone a lot. Now, even."

"Your dad?"

"Dead." I snap, and he recoils a bit from my rude tone. He rests his elbow on the counter, his chin in his hand, propping his head up.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He says, but chooses not to ask _how_ he died. I roll my eyes. That's the most unoriginal thing I get all the time from people who learn my father's gone. "You really are very attractive, Katniss. I can't help it: Are you single?"

"Back up jack." I warn, pointing accusatively at him, "You're dating my friend. It's morally wrong for me to even take a compliment from you."

"I don't want Madge. I want you."


	3. Chapter 3

I gape at Peeta. "What?"

"Did I stutter?" He murmurs, very calm and collected, measuring my reaction. One of his hands straddles his own thick thigh, the other resting on the counter.

"You're a pervert." I mutter, sliding past him to leave the room. He grabs my arm, which I quickly snatch back, but in the blink of an eye, his opposite hand shoots out, seizing my wrist in a death grip. "Get off of me. Now." I growl. He's still very amused, but there's something sinister hiding in his eyes. He releases me, smirking when I plant a hand on his chest and shove him away. I scoff, scurrying out of the kitchen. Shockingly, he leaves me be.

"Katniss?" Gale asks as I pass him, "Are you alright? You look upset." I stop, turn to him, and give an exasperated sigh.

"I'm fine, Gale, thanks." He sees me turn and lock eyes coldly with Peeta as exits the kitchen, but he turns the other way once catching sight of Gale. This time it's _my_ eyes that light up. He wants to stay away from Gale. Good, he's half the size of him. Sadly, that's still two times the size of me.

"What'd that guy say to you?" Gale asks, raising his eyebrows. His lips are full and look very soft. A lot of things about him are soft.

I shake my head. "I have to talk to Madge about it." _She has to know._

Gale sets his jaw, looking in the direction Peeta has left. I smile a bit at him and I'm not sure why. I move to his side, leaning into him a bit and I can tell he's pleased by this.

"Kat!" Someone yells across the room. Gale sighs, seeing Enobaria at the same time as me. She's strong, beautiful and athletic. She has mocha skin, black hair, and glistening lips. And she's all over Gale. She reaches me, hugging me and holding me at arm's length. "How are you?" she grins.

"I'm fine, you?" I murmur. Peeta is leaning on a wall and I can just see him over her shoulder, and he's winning all of my attention. She says something in reply I don't catch. Peeta grins at me, raising his eyebrows in some sort of contest. I close my eyes for a moment, hoping when I open that he'll have disappeared. No such luck. Enobaria begins to speak with Gale, both diving into their conversation. _No, dammit! _Of course, Peeta is out of sight once again. So, I set off to go find Madge.

She's standing, speaking with Delly, a girl who everyone at school calls Madge's twin. "Madge?" I interrupt rudely, "I need to talk to you. It's about Peeta." She looks to me with a frown, excusing herself from her conversation and dragging me out of earshot.

"What is it?" she asks, not happy to resurrect the topic.

"He's… He's been hitting on me." I say, once again feeling small.

She gawks at me, but it's not for the right reason. "I can't believe you Katniss!"

"Wait, what?"

"I thought this shit with Peeta was over!" She hisses.

"It is, I'm being serious!" I try to keep my voice down to no prevail. She leans in, scaring me.

"Katniss, I like him a lot. It seems you just want to mess that up for me." She says.

"No! He told me he was just using you, that he wanted me. Trust me, I don't want him back." I defend. She gives a sour chuckle, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I'm not dealing with this right now. Go talk to… someone."

* * *

Gale is out of bounds since he's still with Enobaria. Madge is pissed at me. Delly is with Madge. Who am I left to socialize with? That's right. He sits on the couch next to me, leaning back, studying me. I glare sideways at him. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." I mumble.

"I'd much rather gawk at you in person." He smiles. He has, more or less, toned down the perverted stuff, and now really is just talking. "What's your sister's name?"

"Primrose. I call her Prim though."

"Really? Because I heard you call her… what was it? Little Duck." He tilts his head to the side, gouging my reactions. I smile a bit.

"Yeah I call her that too." When I look at him, his jaws gone slack. "What?"

"You just smiled." He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, urging "Do it again." I push him away a bit, his closeness too much for me. He leans into my touch and I immediately retract my hand.

"Yeah, it happens sometimes. What about you?" I ask, turning the tables.

"What _about_ me?"

"Do you live with your parents? You going to college?" I raise my eyebrow with attitude. He strokes his jaw with a rough hand, processing information in his head.

"I don't know about college. No, I don't live with my parents." He tells me. I ask what he plans to do for a living. "I'm an artist." He says.

"Oh, fancy." I grumble, and he gives a low chuckle.

He quickly changes the subject on me again. "When does your mother get back?"

"The 23rd. And I still haven't gotten her a gift… You have any siblings?" I ask. He doesn't answer, changing the subject again, and I frown when I realize he's trying to keep the conversation under his control, talking about things _he _wants to talk about. He turns the tables on me when I try to take over.

"You look distracted." He says, leaning back again, crossing his ankle over his knee.

"To an extent." I whisper, my eyes locked on the ground. He rolls his foot to the side, his knee knocking mine softly. I flinch from his touch, looking to him once again. "What?" I snap.

He grins, his smile faltering when a hand grabs his shoulder. We both look up to see Madge, giving me a halfhearted smile. I scoot away from Peeta a bit, but now my side is pressed to the girl next to me. Madge squeezes his shoulder, asking "How's it going?" softly.

Peeta looks to me again, darkness blooming in blue irises, muttering "Just fine." I feel my cheek heat up and I look down at my clenched fists. A few people begin to disperse, and I feel I should leave soon. Madge speaks softly to Peeta, and I don't think I want to listen. I stand up and Peeta's smile evaporates.

"I'll be right back." He tells Madge as I stand, walking to the door. He gets to me quickly, grabbing my arm. "Hey, you said you still hadn't gotten your mom a Christmas gift?"

"Yeah, why?" I ask cautiously.

"Does your mom like art?"

"Yeah. Wait, no." I say, pointing a finger in his face, knowing what he wants. He just wants more opportunities to creep me out. He grabs my wrist, sending a jolt through me, and I slap away his hand.

"Come on. Come to my apartment, see if you think she'll like anything." He persuades.

"I don't have any money to spare, Peeta." I really am terrified of the idea of going to his apartment.

"You don't need any." He promises, his voice low. I don't know what to say, glowering at him. _I'm scared of you._ _I don't want to be alone with you. I don't want you to ruin one of my only friendships. _He grins when I don't respond. He pushes me towards the door, saying "I'll pick you up tomorrow at noon."


	4. Chapter 4

**I saw Les Miserables today, and I now have a girl crush on Anne Hathaway. I'd tap that. No, I'm kidding, that was too far.**

* * *

My hands clench the steering wheel as I drive, Prim in the passenger seat singing along to, what's her name? Oh, Ellie Goulding. I'll hand it to her; my sister's got a good voice. My eyes are glued to the road which is a bit unusual for me.

"Prim? Do you think you'd be able to handle being home alone by yourself today?" I ask suddenly, turning down the music using a button on the wheel.

She looks at me sideways. "For how long?" she questions slyly. Her tone worries me.

"An hour maybe?" I estimate, though I really don't know. I'll be using Prim as an excuse to leave Peeta's apartment as soon as possible today. We're out and about currently because there was nothing to eat in the house, so I got Prim a donut. Last night, I seriously tried to talk myself out of going over to this monster's house, but the money mom left is for strictly gas and food, not presents. I have no other choice, unless I want to look like an ass.

"Yeah," she says, "I'll be fine."

I don't believe her for a second.

* * *

I open the door, giving Peeta a small, mostly unfriendly smile. "You look excited." He chuckles, once again making no move to come in, not even looking past me into the house. I wonder why.

"Oh I am." I mutter sardonically. I turn, calling to Prim, "Be good!" I exit into the freezing air, pulling my coat around me more snugly. Peeta smiles at me, and I pretend I don't see. I don't even feel like rejecting him, I'm just filled with dread. He has a small, black, compact car. He stops at the trunk, watching me walk forward. As I grab onto the handle of the passenger door, I glare at him, snapping "What?"

"Oh, nothing." He mumbles, going to the driver's side and jumping in along with me. I sigh in relief. It's warm in here, but smells like cigarettes.

"Why does it smell in here?" I ask immediately.

"I drove my brother to his fiancé's house this morning." He answers coolly, pulling out of the driveway. I frown.

"He doesn't have a car?" I pry.

"Not at the moment. He and her had a fight, she drove home and left him on the street." I gape at him. How could someone do that? Especially someone who's supposed to love you... He nods, seeing my reaction. I shake my head, sitting back in the seat; I didn't realize I was on the edge of it. I feel a little more… liberal. A little more confident talking to Peeta. Great.

"What's your brother like?" I probe. Peeta drive's slow, calm and smooth.

"A kid in a man's body." He chuckles, "If you ever meet him, I advise against a hug. He'll pop your lungs." I smile at the thought of that. His brother sounds warm and sweet. What happened to Peeta?

"Did your parents drop you on your head or something?" I grumble.

"What?"

"Nothing."

* * *

He turns the keys in the ignition, withdrawing them. "Come on." He orders, opening his door and stepping out.

"I know what to do, asshole." I mumble to myself, though I sense he catches the last part. He once again stops at the end of the car, letting me walk before him, which weirds me out. The ground is slippery and I take slow, cautious steps. I am nowhere near gracious, having a heart attack when I almost trip. After I recover a normal heartbeat, I realize Peeta's hands are what saved me from falling, and they still rest on my hips. I push them off, squaring my shoulders. "Thank you." I breathe. He leads me to his apartment, opening the door and letting me walk in first, once again placing a hand on my hip as I pass. It's second nature to smack it away.

"You sure this is your place?" I ask, looking around. The walls are covered in art, I'm guessing his art.

"Hope so. I've been living here for two years." He laughs, but I find myself gaping at him again.

"Why'd you move out when you were sixteen?" I ask.

He shrugs it off, once again turning the tables and giving me a command instead. "Sit." I turn, going to the small, quaint couch and sitting slowly. I feel like I'm being hunted, with those marine-like eyes watching me. He seems pleased as I take his order, sending some sort of fear straight to my heart, making it jump.

"How'd you learn to draw?" I ask absentmindedly, seeing a picture lying on the picture, something straight out of a nightmare. "Ew, Peeta, why would you draw this?" It's a black and white painting of a small boy with fair hair, blood gushing from a cut on his eyebrow.

He snatches it away, putting it back on the table. No, throwing it back on the table, saying "Never mind it." His teeth are clenched and I decide to just stop talking. I did _something _wrong and he's pissed. My hands are clasped in my lap as I look up to him, alert and wide eyed. He's standing over me, scowling at me, but his mood shifts suddenly. His eyes grow wide too, and he clears his throat, turning his back on me.

… _What just happened? _I don't think I want to know. He scratches his head before fully regaining his composure. He sits on a chair opposite of me. "What kind of things does your mom like?"

"Well she's a real-estate agent." I say, gulping down my fear, "Her favorite place is really wintery places, you know? Like ski resorts and shit." My foul language amuses him. He pretends to play off his small laugh with a cough. "What?"

"Nothing. That word doesn't sound right coming out of someone so… nevermind." He shakes his head. I tell him how my mother got married at a winter resort, in a big, lavish cabin.

"Wait, are you going to paint something for her?" I ask, "I thought you were just going to give me something."

He shrugs, smirking. "I don't mind, Katniss. In fact, I want to." He stands again, coming and sitting next to me, which I'm not entirely sure I like. He puts his hand on my knee, pushing it away from him and looking at my shoes with a smile. "Converse?" He grins. His hand is big, rough and warm. I shimmy him off.

"Yes, converse. They're comfy." I mutter. I still find myself staring at the picture of the young boy, drawing in more details. His hair falls over his face delicately, looking untamed. His eyes are closed, a tear slipping down his cheek. He looks too young to spell, even. He has a square jaw, his lips morphed into a scared sneer.

"Stop looking at it." He says suddenly, a little louder, turning the picture over and slapping it down.

"What is wrong with you?" I ask, my brow furrowing, "I was just looking at the damn picture!"

"Maybe it's not for your eyes." He growls. I blink, shrinking back. I regain my confidence.

"Then why'd you leave it out here?"

"I didn't remember to put it back. God dammit…" he presses his hand to his forehead, annoyed.

"I-I… I'm sorry?" I offer. He shakes his head, which is expected. I don't even know why I'm apologizing. I look down at the paper again, longing to turn it over and study it once more.

He picks it up, sadly looking at it himself, his elbows gloomily resting on his knees. He violently rips it in half out of nowhere. "Peeta," I say softly, "What the hell are you doing?"

He throws the scraps back on the table. "Drop it." He commands, but I ignore. What right does he have to order me around?

"You can talk to me, you know? Vent." I order back, mocking his tone. His eyes shoot to mine, observing me oddly.

"What?"

"… I like when you talk to me like that." He blurts.

"_What?"_ I repeat. He purses his lips, growing a light shade of red. My jaw has dropped halfway to the floor but I can't manage to pick it up. "I have to go." I breathe, wanting nothing more than to be away from him right now.

"Wait!" He says, jumping up and following as I stride towards the door, "Katniss, I drove you here."

"Part of you weird scheme, I would imagine." I mutter, adding "Look Peeta, I don't know what goes on in that fucked up brain of yours. I don't think I want to know, honestly." I go to grab the doorknob, opening it, but Peeta shut it again, overpowering me.

"The only fucking thing that goes through my brain is you!" he barks. I flinch, pushing him away from me and opening the door, slamming it behind me. He follows suit. "Katniss," he says behind me, "Let me take you back."

"You're not taking me anywhere." I growl.

"Katniss, your house is a twenty minute walk from here!"

"Twenty minutes I'd rather spend shivering from the cold all alone than shivering because of your comments in your car." I call, walking around the corner out of his sight. I never wish to see him again.

* * *

I am fairly sure I'll be getting a cold from walking home a few hours ago. I sit, wrapped in a blanket, watching a Friends episode as Prim giggles, off playing in the sitting room. The phone rings, and I make no move to answer it. Prim eventually does, and I zone out, watching the TV.

Prim pokes my shoulder, handing me the phone. I take it, asking her "Who is it?" in a whisper. She shrugs. I roll my eyes, putting the phone to my ear. "Hello?" I croak.

"Katniss?" Peeta says, "It's me." For the third or so time today, the man makes my jaw drop.

"How the hell did you get my number?" I hiss angrily.

"I asked around. Katniss, forgive me. What I said was totally inappropriate." He almost begs me.

"Your damn right it was inappropriate. What did you mean you liked when I talked like that?" My eyes are narrowed, as if he could see my expression and pull from it like he normally does.

"Katniss… I really like you. I want to take you out." He says softly, pleading.

"Is this how you asked Madge out too?" I mumble, gripping my blanket in anger. "After what you said, the answer is no."

"Katniss, please. I would explain, but… it's better when I'm looking at you. I can tell what you're thinking." He states, and I hear his worried sigh. I imagine he's running his hand through his hair like crazy. "Let me take you out to dinner. I won't call it a date, if that's what you want."

"No, you're with Madge."

"No I'm not. I broke it off with her. I told you, I like you a lot Katniss." My eyes widen. For god sakes, what's up with him.

"Tell me now, or I'll just hang up and shut you out." I threaten. I'm not sure how I feel about shutting him out. He sighs shakily, staying quiet for so long I think he's gone. "You there?"

"Yeah I'm here." He huffs, "Uh… well… Fuck, why can't I say it to you?" I don't think he's talking to me anymore, more to himself.

"Waiting..." I sing.

"I'm a… I'm a sadomasochist." He reveals.

* * *

**Review please! ;) Later, bitches**


	5. Chapter 5

**Just by the way: BDSM stands for bondage and discipline (BD), domination and submission (DS), and Sadism and Masochism (SM). A sadomasochist is someone who plays the role of a sadist and a masochist. A switch. Get it?**

* * *

I stand and make sure Prim is far away before I respond, bringing my blanket with me. "What? ... _What_?" I hiss. Peeta is obviously nervous, sighing and clearing his throat.

"Katniss…"

"Is it because I was mean to you?" I ask, ignoring him completely. "I'm neither a sadist nor a masochist. I don't want you to hurt me and I don't want to hurt you. Not in a sexual way, at least."

"Katniss, I don't want to hurt you. I don't… Please, just let me take you out to dinner. I want to talk face to face with you. It'd be much easier for me." He implores, making me cringe. I've done this to him, already caused him pain and I don't even fucking want to!

"I don't want to be with a sadist! I don't want to be a submissive, or whatever the hell would please you!" I growl, closing my eyes, thinking of a desperate look on his face. _Please brain, _I think, _don't make me pity this man now. _

"I told you, I won't hurt you. Plus, all I'm asking for is a date. Do you do those kinds of things on the first date?"

"First, you said you wouldn't call it a date. Second, don't try to joke around the subject. I-"

"Katniss, _please_." He begs, "There's a reason I am the way I am, and it's a long story. One I will not tell you now. I don't know what's going through your mind, but I'm not going to whip you and tie you up." I wince at the thought, a sickening wave of fright flowing through me, taking me over. "I'm not asking for sex. I'm asking for time."

"Stop talking about it!" I snap, my voice raising. I can't take it anymore; the thoughts and pictures going through my head making me queasy. "Fine… fine, I'll come with you." I breathe.

"You will?"

"Mhm…" What am I doing? Madge with thoroughly hate me, my mother will kill me if she finds out I went on a date, I have Prim I have to deal with, but most importantly… I'm scared. I don't want to be with him, I don't want to be near him. Pain equals pain for me, not gratification. When I hurt someone, I say sorry, not… whatever you would say in that situation.

"Tomorrow at nine?"

"That's fine." I murmur. Before he can say any more, I hang up. I turn to go give it back to Prim, but instead, I bump into her. I gape at her, my jaw dropping. "Where you listening?" I ask. She nods, looking ashamed and scared. My heart freezes.

"What did you hear Prim?" I snarl.

"N-nothing. I didn't hear anything!" she says, snatching her arm away when I try to grab it.

"Prim." I warn.

"I just heard the last part! I don't even know what you meant!" she cries. I close my eyes, seeing she's just as upset on the outside as I am on the in.

"Forget it, Prim. Calm down." I mutter, patting her shoulder and walking off. It's official. I'm dead.

* * *

I study myself in the mirror. I look normal. I'm not dressing up for Peeta. I'm wearing black, sleek jeans, a cream Aeropostale shirt, my North Face and Uggs. I look at the clock. Almost nine. Damn! I'm so scared of him. What will he do? What does he want? The only thing I know is that he's attracted to me, and I want to shy away from him every time he even looks at me.

The doorbell rings, and Prim yells "I'll get it!" the thought of Prim opening a door for a… a sadomasochist… I can't even think straight.

"No, Prim!" I snap, "I'll do it." I walk down the hall, brushing my hand over her hair. "Be good, alright? Don't answer the door, only answer the phone for me or mom. Be to bed at ten, okay?" She nods eagerly, obviously wanting me to leave. Peeta now knocks on the door. "I'm coming!" I turn Prim, scooting her away before walking to the door. I don't even want him to see her. I open it, but I don't smile at Peeta.

"Hi." He says shyly, very cautious. I grunt in response, sliding past him, off of the porch. "Are you going to shun me all night?" he asks.

"Yep. You talk, I shun." I gripe. He grimaces, not stopping at the tail of the car to study me this time.

* * *

The restaurant is very nice. It's big and dimly lit, sickeningly romantic. Peeta pulls out and pushes in my chair for me, making me nervous since he's behind me, out of sight. He sits opposite of me, smirking. "What?" I ask tensely.

He shakes his head. A waitress comes around and asks us what we'd like to drink. Peeta gets a water and I get a soda. I twiddle my thumbs, and he finally says "Ask me something. Say something."

"Why do you want me here? I don't want to be…" I exclaim. He sighs, resting his arms on the table.

"I told you before. You intrigue me, Katniss. You're beautiful. I had… I had really weird feelings I haven't felt before when you answered the door the other day." He admits.

"How the hell am I supposed to believe this? How do I know you didn't ask Madge this?" I demand. Madge is still in the dark with this whole he and I thing. She always will be, because it won't last long.

"Because it's true. Look at me in the damn eye, and you'll see." He orders. It's no longer just a strange step out of line; it's a look into what he's really like. I freeze, gawking at him. "Katniss, please don't look at me like that every time I tell you to do something." His voice is soft, and I can tell he's trying very hard to control it… trying very hard to hide emotions.

"Why? I know what's going through your mind…" I exhale.

"No. You definitely do not." He growls. I freeze again, and I can't help it: I imagine him grinning as a girl, whom I must point out is not me, cries out in pain. Not joy, pain. Excruciating _pain_. "You're scared of me now, aren't you?"

I nod.

"Terrified?"

I nod, but he shakes his head. I frown, and he tells me "No you're not, you're still here with me, aren't you?" My lip trembles as I try to find something to shoot back at him with. Not a damn thing comes to mind. "Katniss… you're one of the most outgoing women I've met. Please don't smother that trait now that you know what I'm like. I don't want to dominate you." He says, like this is completely normal.

"Then what do you want?" I breathe.

"Honest answer?"

"No, I want you to lie to me." I snap. He grins, but it soon fades.

"Please don't get freaked out but… I want to… to be your submissive."


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks** **for reading, btw. Review please!**

My mouth doesn't even drop this time. Not that he's predictable, but he's beginning to make my jaw hurt with all of these twists and turns. It's making me sick. I cover my face with my hands, muttering "Oh my god, oh my god…" I peek through my fingers at Peeta. He's watching calmly. "Please just stop… Why don't you ask me to breathe underwater too?"

Peeta frowns, running his tongue over his teeth. "Katniss?" he asks carefully. "Let me just explain what it means."

"I know what it means!" I snap as the waitress puts our drinks on the table. I pipe down and lean back as she asks us what we'd like to eat. Peeta orders two of something but I'm not listening. I don't desire to be a… What's it called? A "dom"? I don't want to beat him. I don't crave some kind of relationship with him. Not now, not after… I stop my thought. Not "now"? Did I like him before? No, no I didn't. That dreadful feeling I got when I first met him… "Oh, fuck…" I mumble.

"What's going through your mind?" he asks softly.

"Everything! Too much!" I say, leaning forward once again. He doesn't mind my outburst. "What feelings am I supposed to be feeling towards you?"

"Usually not love." He says, surprising me. I raise my eyebrows, and he nods. "It's… feelings aren't mutual with you and me, obviously." Does that mean you love me? I can only wonder. But he doesn't even… know me. "I really shouldn't have told you." He rubs the back of his neck and I see his nervousness. A muscle in his jaw jumps though his eyes stay soft.

My curiosity is so out of hand, I just start asking things I don't want the answer to: "What would I have to do to you? What would you act like?"

"You'd have to… take control, in public and alone. I'd do as you say; obey you." He updates me slowly. I close my eyes tight, shaking my head. "Why don't we talk about something else?" he suggests.

"Like what?" I ask, breathless. He opens his mouth, but I cut him off, jumping in. "Wait. You never told me who you got my number from."

"Uh…" he cups the back of his neck again. Oh god, I think. Then he says it. The exact thing I didn't want him to say: "Madge." I whimper, putting my head down. I can practically feel Peeta's white smile, imagine his shoulders shaking with a confined laugh.

"I've known you for a few days," I mumble, "And everything's going south." He wisely says nothing. I keep my head down for a minute or two, and when I lift it I have more questions. "Why were you acting the way you were when I first met you?"

"I was looking at you as a submissive." He says simply.

"Oh, that makes it alright." I mock. He shakes his head, smiling once again. "Why do you… why do you like it?"

"That's too far." He hastily brushes away the subject. What are you hiding, Mr. Man? "Let's go on to you. What sports do you do?"

"None, really." I tell him, "Some archery." He raises an eyebrow, surprised. I find myself laughing a bit. "Yeah, I can shoot."

"Please, smile more." He says, "It looks lovely on you." I blush, sighing and looking down to my lap. "Anyway… college plans?"

"Hopefully Harvard." I say, zoning out for a moment as I think of the possibilities.

"You sound quite aspiring." He grins. I give him a small smile in return. He runs his tongue over his teeth again, and I manage to peel my eyes away from him. Good god, what's happening? I don't want to hurt him. Can pain be sensual? How? Why would I want someone to bow down to me when I told them to? I mean… a guy who obeys, yeah that sounds nice. He's good looking and semi-sweet, but the package is just too much.

Our food comes, and I succeed in eating about half of mine. Peeta leans back when he's done, having a drink of his water and saying, "I have this weird desire to be with you all of the time. It's… this has never happened to me before."

I blink at him. Yet another painfully true and personal thing spilled by him. We stare for a moment, before I look away. I'm not being very assertive now, am I? Good. "You could have just approached me like a normal guy. Asked for a date before telling me how you like it."

"No I couldn't have and you know it. You would have rejected me. I fear that." He blurts. He does that a lot. I run a hand through my hair, looking around at the normal couples. Hell, we're not even couple. The waitress brings us our bill, and Peeta pays as if he were a gentleman. I scoff at the thought.

"Something funny?" he asks, smiling and standing as I do.

"Everything." I murmur, and Peeta comes, pushing my chair in for me and helping me shrug on my coat. "You know, for someone who wants to be beaten, you sure are nice." He looks to me, blue eyes staring into gray. I challenge him a bit, seeing what happens if I do. I glare icily, and he looks down, almost hanging his head. I try not to show my shock, saying "Alright, let's go."

.

Peeta parks in my driveway, and I dread going in and facing Prim. She heard me earlier. What if she called my mom and told her? Peeta steps out, opening my door for me. I stand, not thanking him out of just lack of attention, but I soon realize if I were to take on this role, I probably wouldn't anyway.

He leads me to my doorstep, turning to me. "I'm terrified of going inside." I mutter to myself. "Prim heard you and I on the phone earlier.

"Oh god…" he drones, rubbing his jaw. I make a 'yeah' face, making him smile. I hear Prim inside, and I open my mouth to say something to Peeta, but he leans forward, pressing his lips to my cheek. I turn beat red and take a step back.

"Good night." I breathe, shell shocked and blushing like crazy.

He nods politely, saying "I'll call you." The nod maybe wasn't polite, just him slipping into character. I mouth 'okay' to him, since my voice won't come out, and he grins, walking away. He calls back over his shoulder "Goodnight Katniss. Think about what I said."

"How could I not?" I grumble, stepping inside. The warmth of the heating is welcome, and I see Prim is pretending to be asleep on the couch. "Yes, because that will fool me."

She frowns, sitting up, mad I gave her away. My cheeks are still hot from embarrassment. I think it was embarrassment. He just kissed me on the cheek and butterflies roared in my stomach, as well as something deeper, my muscles everywhere clenching deliciously. All he did was kiss my cheek. Why am I so effected? I sit down next to Prim and Buttercup, sighing. I feel like slapping Peeta.

"I saw him," Prim snickers softly, "he's cute." She emphasizes the last syllable in cute.

"Mhm." I hum. I will admit that. The dude's more than cute. The thing is; I'm starting to admit these things after a kiss on the cheek. What happens after he pecks the lips? I concave; commit all of these horrid sexual acts he imagines me participating in? I can't let that happen.


	7. Chapter 7

That night, I dream of being a slave owner. I was standing in the hot sun, watching carelessly as slaves were beaten and tortured. I wonder why. I wake up strangely early, at nearly five. I walk downstairs in the darkness, sitting in the kitchen. I clutch my phone in my hand. I want to call him. You know who. Why? I don't know. I'd most likely wake him. Instead, I call my mother.

"Hello?" my mother chirps.

"Hi mom." I smile, tracing circles on the countertop.

"Oh Kat. It's quite early for you. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I had a nightmare. What are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing. Some paperwork. You know, you're supposed to get heavy snow today?" Her voice is quiet, because she knows how much I love snow.

"No way." I gasp, looking out the window as if I could see anything in the inky darkness.

"Yes way." My mother mimics, laughing. "Anyway, Prim called me last night. Said you were out with a friend." I still in my chair, waiting for her to go on. Her voice is soft, not angry. Maybe Prim didn't tell her about what she heard. "She said your friend was cute." She adds in a whisper. I blush, covering my face with my free hand even though I'm alone.

"She's crushing on chicks now, Ma." I grumble, making her laugh again.

"Who is he, Kat?" she asks, much more excited than me.

"I don't… _really _like him. He's cute in all but… he has many downsides." I spill just a bit, knowing it means the world to her when I do so. It's very rare.

"Like?"

"I'll tell you later. I-…" My voice trails off when my phone beeps in my ear. I look at it, seeing a text from Peeta. I blink. Now he has my cell number too?

"Katniss?" My mom asks, lengthening the word. I can picture her: eyebrows raised and eyes confused.

"Sorry. He just texted me." I murmur.

"What does it say?" she asks. I'm able to read the message without hanging up on her, so I do so. I read it out loud.

"It's starting to snow…" The second part truly says 'Have you thought things through?', but I tell mother, "What are you doing today?"

"Oh, he likes you Katniss!" My mom sings, making me grin and blush. "Go ahead, invite him over." I'm a little surprised. Here I am, a seventeen year old girl alone with her sister, and her mom encourages what she thinks is my boyfriend to come over. But… I haven't made up my mind on a damn thing and him coming here after what I felt last night when he kissed my cheek. I don't want things to go any further, not one step.

"Alright I will." I say. What? My mouth just moved without my permission. I don't want him here! Plus, the thought of him with Prim still scares me. I clench my fists, trying to sort all of the jumbled, fucked up thoughts. My mom goes on to say something about the family she's selling to, but my mind is somewhere else, somewhere far away. She eventually says she has to go, and I say goodbye after telling her I love her.

I stare at my phone. 'Have you thought things through?' No, I haven't thought things through. It's like handing a dyslexic child a dictionary and telling them to memorize it. It's too hard, it's too frustrating! I press "reply" I make up something witty, so I won't have to answer.

*Now you know both my home and cell numbers. I'm curious where you get your information… stalker.*

*I want what I want* He shoots back, actually bringing a smile to my lips that I really do shun. The conversation is lighthearted and funny, not like a would-be dom talking to a submissive. I shake my head, scratching my cheek before responding.

*I see you're very persistent.*

*I'll admit I am. What are you doing today?* I whimper, realizing I'm cornered. My mom would find out sooner or later if I didn't invite Peeta over because of that little snitch of a sister and then mother would start asking questions. But the curious side of me gnaws away, wondering 'Why did he refuse to come in before?' 'Would he act even more submissive in my house?'

*Nothing. My mother found out about you. Wants me to invite you over.*

*Is that so?* I can just picture the grin on his face.

*Don't throw this in my face. Just be here at noon.*

* * *

The doorbell rings and I slowly open the door. Peeta smiles at me, white snow covering his shoulders and his black knit cap. "Come on in." I murmur, extremely nervous. He hangs his head, stepping in gingerly, and the thought arises again. _Why does he not want to come in? _My mind goes to too many far-fetched reasons, like I'd tell him my house, my rules. I don't think I would…

He's wearing thick snow boots, and a winter jacket of a sweatshirt. He shrugs off his outer coat, and I offer to take it. "No, that's fine." He mumbles, a hint of something shady in his eyes. _Oh I get, _I think, _he doesn't want me to take it. _As the dominant, if I don't have to be courteous what _do _I have to be? A bitch that beats her… Never mind.

"The coat rack's over there." I offer, pointing to it. He goes and hangs it up, taking his hat off as well as Prim prances down the stairs, ready to go out and play in the snow. She freezes, seeing Peeta. I look to him, and see he's looking at me. I give him a 'what?' look. Something inside me tells me: _you idiot, he's asking permission. _I flash my eyes to Prim, saying "Uh… Prim this is Peeta." She looks at him, batting her eyelashes. Oh please don't do that, Prim. Why am I treating this like he's a child molester? Oh damn…

"Hi." She grins, Buttercup strutting past her.

"Hi there." Peeta smiles warmly back, making me look past that wall or shell he's been putting up. He looks young and truthful. So sweet and… handsome. I shake my head as Prim informs me of what she's doing today.

"I'm walking to Rue's and her mom's going to take us to go sledding." She says.

"You want a drive?" I ask, though I don't know what I would do with Peeta. She shakes her head. Oblivious to the strangers presence. She pets Buttercup once, and walks past me. "Be safe. Call me when you get there." I tell her, and she nods, closing the door. "She's way too young to be doing that."

Peeta is watching me meticulously, sitting on a bench by the door. "What?" I snap.

He shakes his head. "You'd make a very good dom." He scratches his head, clearing his throat. He leans back, now giving me a smirk. "So what are we doing today?" he asks.

"My usual life consists of watching TV." I shrug, walking into the living room. He removes his shoes, following me. He looks around the area, trailing his finger along the wall.

"Nice house." He breathes, and I don't think he intended for me to hear it.

I get this overwhelming interest again, ordering "Sit." He comes to my side and he sits down on the couch obediently. "I'll be right back." I leave him, walking into the kitchen and I feel his eyes on me. I throw the remote at him, which was lying on the kitchen table, and it hits him in the shoulder. It's a loud thud, but he doesn't say ouch. Of course. I make hot cocoa, thinking he'd like it since he was out in the cold. But maybe he wouldn't like me making it. Fuck, this is so confusing. I make it anyway, bringing it to him. He tries to pretend to be grateful, as I sit next to him, bringing my knees up to my chest.

"You like this show?" I ask with a smirk. It's Ellen.

"It was on when I turned it on asshole." He chuckles, sipping his drink. I do so as well, studying him. His light hair and square jaw. It reminds me of… I gasp. "What?" he asks, putting his cocoa down and turning his attention on me.

"That picture you didn't want me to look at… was that you?" I question, stunned. He blinks, staying silent for quite a while.

"Why?"

"The eyes. The hair." I reach out, my arm acting on its own, my fingers brushing his jaw. "The jaw." I realize he's leaning into my soft touch, but I don't retract my hand. "Is it?" He's silent. "Tell me. Now." I instruct.

"Yes." He says quickly, submitting. My eyes widen; soften. This time it's he that gasps. I put down my drink and wrap my arms around his neck. Sympathy is something that's always been strong inside of me.

"Tell me what happened." I whisper as he nervously holds me back.

"I don't…" I can tell he's about to object, but he wouldn't dare if he wants me to be his "dom". "My parents always hit me. They beat me. And my brothers." I gape at him, my face inches from his.

"W-why?" I whisper.

He shrugs. "They didn't want kids but they wanted sex. Slipped up three times." He murmurs, "I don't think even _my _parents are sick enough to decide on an abortion."

I can't believe this. The things he does… this has to be why. But that can't be healthy. Before I know what I'm doing, I'm kissing his cheek softly, his skin warm and inviting under my lips. He squeezes his eyes shut, one of his arms snaking around my hip, brushing under my shirt. "I'm so sorry," I say, "Whatever ignorant names I called you, whatever I did to you, I take back."

He doesn't respond to me, in what I think is an attempt to keep his emotions under control. He shakes his head, leaning back so he can look me in the eye. "I don't want you to take anything back. I just want an answer." He says, and I know what he's talking about. I squirm away a bit. "Will you let me be your sub?" He's very persistent, as I said.

"I… I'm not going to say no." I say, nervously rubbing my thigh. His lips quirk up in a small smile. "I-I don't know how in the hell to be what you want me to be, so don't get hopeful. That wasn't a yes."

"You just need a little training." He murmurs, throwing away the old sad subject, getting all flirty again. I scoff, crossing my arms and shaking my head. "So let me do that," he says, leaning forward, his voice low, "I'll be the Dom for now." He's so close, his lips so taunting. I've never kissed someone before… I shake off the thoughts, scooting back.

"I can't do this yet." I say, my voice breathy and uncertain. The word "yet" seems to get him excited.

"Why not?" His voice is challenging. He's no longer trying to submit, but he's verbally getting me to, and I feel like with his tone, he can whip me into saying anything.

"Because…" my voice trails off and I look away. He grabs my jaw, making his eyes meet his again.

"Give me an answer Katniss. Now." He orders.

"I can't… I don't know how to do this. I've never kissed someone before. I barely know you."

"You trust me, correct?" He purrs. He lets go of my jaw. I'm hesitant, but I nod. "Then let me get to know you." He pins one of my hands to the couch, leaning forward and kissing my neck. I gulp, frozen like a deer in the headlights. I'm nervous, unknowing of what to do. He gets to his feet, knees bent, lips taunting my skin. He knows I couldn't bare it if his lips touch mine, so he stays with the neck and jaw. He grabs both of my wrist in one hands, working an arm between the small of my back and the couch, pulling me forward. His lips don't stop teasing as he moves my hands behind my back, holding me hostage in a frail position. I get a rush, like I could just claw his clothes off of him. I'm about to giggle when he hits a sweet spot, but I'm too... terrified. Nervous.

The phone rings. _Prim! _She's calling to tell me she's at Rue's. I can't move, and Peeta doesn't let up.

"I have to answer that." I say, looking to the phone, wishing I could move it with my thoughts.

"Ask."

"May I answer the phone?" I ask. He leans back, and I crawl away, as red as the blanket under me, answering. I can't really breathe right now, my heart going a mile a minute. _Oh my…_ "H-hey Little Duck."


	8. Chapter 8

"I'm here, Katniss." Prim tells me, and I can hear little Rue's giggles somewhere in the background.

I push a lock of hair behind my ear shakily, steeling my voice; "Okay, Prim. Thank you for listening to me. Have fun." I'm surprised to find I'm hurrying this along, eager to see what Peeta's next move will be. Prim says something I don't catch, and we say goodbye, hanging up. I turn to Peeta, and he grins when he sees I'm red in the face. He stands again and I pull my knees to my chest.

"You don't want me to kiss you, do you?" he asks, being cautious. I blink and just stare. I look from his lips to his eyes as he narrows them, raising his eyebrows. I shake my head. "Fine." He mutters, leaning down and crushing his lips on mine. My eyes go wide, my breathing speeding up into short pants. _No, _my brain scolds, _this is not want we want. This is bad_. His lower abdomen is pressed to my shins, locking my legs where they are, trapped against my chest. He grabs my wrists again, twisting them behind my back again, this time pushing them up, making it painful. I whimper, realizing I'm pushing back against his mouth.

This is exactly what I did not fucking want. This… poison is seeping inside me through him, making me… want him. I knew if he kissed me, I'd not be able to stop him. This is foreign to me, but obviously not to him.

He disconnects his lips from mine, kissing my neck, working his hand between my legs, pushing them apart. I gasp, twisting away from him. I scramble to the other side of the couch, saying "No, no, no."

He grins. "Did I do something wrong?"

I press my hand to my forehead, sweeping away my bangs. "I told you not to kiss me."

"No you didn't." he mumbles.

"Well I shook my head!" I snap.

"Katniss, I told you for now, I'm the Dom. You don't tell me what to do." He murmurs.

"I have fucking rights!" I yell, "And I'm telling you, don't touch me!" Of course, he ignores. He slumps down on the couch, grabbing my wrist and pulling me over. He grabs my thigh in a vise-like grip, dragging me to where he desires. "Stop!" I grunt as he gets me into position. I'm straddling his hips, sitting on his lap, facing him.

"Kiss me. Please." He says.

"No-"

"You're the Dom now Katniss." He warns me, making me a bit scared. He lays his hands down on the cushions beside him.

"No… no I don't want to do this." I breathe, trying to move away. He snakes his hands around my waist, shaking his head slowly. "Please, don't." I whisper. He smiles, seeing some joke here, like he knows some secret.

"You're not understanding." He tells me quietly, "I'm not in charge here. You are. Do what you want to me." I look down at him, my hands on his shoulders lightly to keep my balance. I manage to lean back, gulping. I really want to kiss his lips. I turn my head away, getting up.

"I don't like this." I say, standing over him.

"I was a little… hasty. I'm sorry." He apologizes, looking up at me with honest eyes. I frown, walking away to the other side of the room.

"I-I didn't want you to kiss me." I stammer. He shakes his head as if to repeat his admission of guilt. "You just made things really awkward."

He laughs. "You still really didn't let me _teach you_."

"I think I've let you do enough." I back up against a wall as he stands, coming to me. "I shouldn't be doing anything with you. I'm a horrible friend to Madge…"

"I know I want to be your Sub, and I should be punished for saying this, but shut up." He says, smiling. I look to him for a few moments, and then, surprisingly, cackle. He stops inches in front of me, spreading his feet wide so we're the same height. His eyes are big and happy. "So, ma'am," he purrs, "are you going to punish me?"

"I don't know how…" I try to avoid it.

He tilts his head to the side, asking "Do you have a penny?" I narrow my eyes, slowly sidestepping him and finding a penny in the kitchen. "I'll show you one way." He says, grabbing my wrist and pulling me to the corner of the room. He tilts my head back, placing the penny on my nose, ordering "On the tips of your toes. Now." I frown, and I can already feel my calf getting uncomfortable. "If that penny falls you're in trouble." He simply just walks away, and I can hear him plop on the couch.

"Peeta, this hurts."

"Don't," he snaps, his voice loud, overriding mine, "talk." His eyes are on me; I can tell. I whine, and he gives a sour chuckle, speaking to himself: "The things I could do to you. The things I'd wish you'd do to me…" that sends a shiver up my spine. For some reason this is… fun. This is exciting and thrilling. My calves ache, and my brow furrows as I try to stay on my toes.

"I have a question." I sing, raising my hand.

"Too bad." He says. His tone is… I don't even know. It's a weird form of alluring.

"What would happen if I drop the penny?"

"Oh my god, Katniss." He laughs, "What don't you get about don't talk?" He silences, then adds: "Right now, nothing would happen. If you don't want me to punish you, I can't." It's kind of horrifying that I question if I want him to or not. _If my mother knew what he and I speak about…_

My calves give out, and I drop the penny. I look to Peeta, and he's smiling at me. I toss the penny to him and he easily snatches it out of the air. I don't know what I want anymore. I don't like pain. I don't like giving pain. He likes both. He's so… sexy.

Holy shit, I really just thought that. I-it's true. He's hot. He's the first guy that's got me to admit that to myself. The feeling of his lips on mine… I wish I could relive when his crashed into mine over and over, as much as I please.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, he chin in his hand, elbow on the armrest.

I'm curious. I've never had a sexual drive, but it's as if his touch kicks it into high gear. What did I tell you? The second he kissed me, I'd concave. I want to explore with him. I want to be able to be curious and discover. But I can't be in the lead here.

"I-I'll agree to do this with you Peeta," I whisper, afraid a little bird will hear and tell my mother or my friends, "but I want to be the… the Sub." I watch him and he does me, cool and collected.

"Are you sure? I'm not saying I'll hurt you, but I'm not saying I won't." he advises.

"I'm sure."

* * *

**Okay friends. Let the games begin.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Don't get all freaked out because Peeta's the Dom. I'm planning for him to be a switch, both the Dom and Sub. Don't give up on me.**

I walk to the couch and sit next to Peeta. I'll admit I am nervous about the "punishments". He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, studying me. "What?" I murmur.

"You know this won't be easy." He says. I frown, and he answers my unasked question. "I'm going to hurt you. To an extent."

I gulp. "I can handle it to an extent." I tell him, just wanting to kiss him again. I'm fairly sure my words are true. Maybe. His tongue runs over his teeth, a muscle in his jaw jumping. Is he mad? He sees my eyes locked on his lips and he smiles. "Would I really be punished for speaking when not spoken to?"

"Yes. For many other things too." He mumbles with a smirk, leaning back. I ask for him to explain. "Well, some of them I'll save for later. But like, for doing something I told you not to do, defying me, getting in trouble when you're not with me." Wow. It's like I'm a really big, sexually weird toddler.

"What kind of trouble?"

"Any." He says, "you're ultimate goal is to keep me from getting mad, if you don't want to be beaten. You're supposed to please me." I raise my eyebrows. How can I pleasure myself if I'm pleasuring him? Do I get any pleasure? I voice my question.

"Not if it isn't received from me." He says, his blue eyes darkening. He orders me to sits on the floor in front him, sitting on my feet. I obey slowly, and he snaps "Do it faster." I look up to him expectantly, and he directs me: "Kiss me." His elbows on his knees again. I sit up straighter, instinctively twisting my hands in his blonde hair, softly kissing him. My lips work against his, and when I try to get closer he puts his hands on my shoulders, making sure I stay down. The only places I'm touching him is where my hands are on his head, but my breasts also gingerly touch his knees. The contact is welcome, but he doesn't allow any more.

He tugs on my bottom lip, and I lean forward as he pulls. He pushes me back again. This is so frustrating but… erotic. "I'm not allowed to touch you?" I murmur against his lips.

"Only when I want you to." He replies. I hadn't even realized I was inching forward again, but he pushes me down once more. He takes my wrists, pulling my hands from his hair, and making me put them on my own head, as if I was being searched by the police. His hands slide down my arms and I get goose bumps. Down, down they skim until they brush past my breasts. I gasp, stilling against his mouth. "Is this too much for now?" he asks, retracting and looking me in the eye, placing on of his hands over both of mine so I don't move them from atop my head. I'm panting quietly, gaping at him.

"Uh…" I stammer, "I'll admit I wasn't expecting that." He chuckles, apologizing.

"I got carried away." He mumbles, grabbing my wrists and letting them fall to my sides. He gives me a peck on the lips and I turn beet red. "You're a very good kisser, Katniss." I smile shyly at him and he stands up, pulling me up too. I'm wearing jeans and a loose green shirt with three buttons extending the collar. He wraps his arms around my, grabbing the back of my top in his fist, pulling it back with his hand on my bottom so I don't lean back with it. He studies my curves. I look away, my cheeks becoming red once again. He laughs at my reaction, kissing my neck to comfort me. I wonder if I'm going to become a pass-time, a piece of property. The way he looked at me made the questions suddenly pop in my brain. He commands me to kiss his neck, and I obey. This part isn't so hard.

* * *

Peeta had to be excused after his brother called, asking for his help on something. He left, having made me blush at least 50 times. Now I sit in front of the TV, blankly staring at it, giddy, though my mind is reeling. Prim is to return within the next twenty minutes or so, and as I think of Peeta and his many tricks and weird ways, my phone interrupts the peace again.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Hey Kat, it's me." Madge says softly. I go still, trying to think of what to say. Most definitely, I won't be telling her about Peeta. "So did Peeta call you?" she brings it up anyway.

"Uh, yeah why?" I ask.

I imagine she's shaking her head. "He likes you, doesn't he?" She's not mad. I can't tell what she is.

"You could say that…" Why lie?

"You know Katniss, I should be bitching right now, but he's the first guy that's admitted he likes you. How can I be mad?" she mumbles. I grin from ear to ear. But what am I supposed to tell her? He wants me to dominate him, but I want him to do it instead? I don't think so. Instead, I make up something cute about our dinner date.

* * *

I've made Prim dinner, and now look out the window at the white blanket spread across the ground. Peeta has consumed my every waking thought since he left, and even as Prim talks to me I replay his hands brushing by my breast. I gulp down the rest of the water I was drinking, feeling a very odd sensation down south at the memory of that blonde tormentor.

I've wondered what he'll do to me, what he'll make me feel. I feel like every second is unfair, because I have to wait. The sensations, the possibilities, his touch; I have to wait for them all. My mother returns soon. In two days, I believe. I feel if she does come back, Peeta will feel less liberal. God, listen to me. I'm picking this sensual freak over my own mom. When I return to the now, I realize Prim is gone, watching TV. I shake my head.

I grab my phone and text Peeta.

*you're officially under my skin*

*I feel honored, Miss Everdeen* He texts back quickly. I smile and reply.

*I don't mean to sound eager, sir, but I really wish you hadn't left so early* Is it weird that referring to him as "sir" turns me on? Just yesterday, the thought would scare me.

*That's quite alright. Eager is hot* he answers, making me blush.

*Well, it is my goal to please. Maybe I could act eager for you tomorrow?*

*Oh, I'd like that*

* * *

The next day I'm antsy for Peeta to arrive, unlike other times where I would dread his appearance. But he comes early when I'm still in the shower, and I pray Prim will use her manners. As quickly as I can, I step out and dry myself. I throw on some dark jeans and a lime green t-shirt, jogging downstairs with my hair falling down my shoulder in wet waves. He sits on the couch, talking with Prim. He wears jeans, his boots and a striped cardigan over a white tee. There's something leaning against the couch by his side. She grins and twiddles her thumbs, and Peeta finally sees me. I smile and he does so back. Prim is a ball of energy, dashing away down the hall.

"Sorry, sir." I murmur, giving him a coy smile.

"I don't like waiting, Katniss." He smirks.

"I once again apologize." He stands, kissing me softly, but I feel the fiery sensation down low again.

"I got something for you." He says. I raise my eyebrows. He puts a hand on my hip and reaches past me, grabbing whatever was leaning against the couch. It's a painting. The painting for my mother! Cloth was draped across it and I remove it, looking at the masterpiece. My jaw drops.

"Peeta this is beautiful." I breathe. A small cabin sits atop a snowy hill, the sky a mix of black and purple, a large moon in the sky. There's a ring of trees around the house, and a few deer wander out nervously. A small glow emanates from the windows.

"Well I tried." He smiles. I wrap one of my arms around his neck, kissing his jaw. "You'll have to thank me later." He whispers. I look up to him with my eyes wide.

"Yes I will." I murmur. I kiss him again, my eyes on the painting. He chuckles, a low, enticing sound.

"You're sister's… interesting." He says.

"Just say it; she's a freak." I laugh. He smiles down on me as I take the painting, asking, "Do you know how to wrap things?" I frown when I see he's looking around the room. "Something unsatisfactory, sir?"

"You don't have a tree?" he asks.

"You didn't have one either." I challenge bravely.

"But I live alone." He scolds.

"I don't have the money for a damn tree." I mutter jokingly, walking into the kitchen to find tape for our wrapping.

"I do." He says, leaning on the doorframe, watching me. I turn to him, giving him a 'no, absolutely not' look. "Yes. If I want to buy something for you I will." He's completely serious now. "Come on. Go get Prim and we'll go now."

"No-"

"Katniss," he snaps, "that wasn't optional." Hmm. This dominating Peeta isn't _always _fun. Just most of the time. I nod obediently and call Prim in.

"What?" she asks, drinking hot chocolate I had no idea she had. I frown. I don't like her doing that herself; she burnt herself to an extreme when she was younger.

"Go get your coat, Little Duck. We're going to get a Christmas tree." I command softly, feeling out of place giving orders. That's Peeta's job.

"We are?" Her face lights up and she sets down her drink. I nod and she squeals, running to get her shoes and coat.

"Oh the thanks I deserve…" Peeta says as I walk by him. He bends an arm around my waist and I brush him off. That wasn't really smart, but I don't care. I'm sure he'll have something planned me for pushing him away. Surprisingly, I can't wait. I get his and my coat, and we leave.

* * *

Prim couldn't be happier. She talked the whole ride here, to Peeta's amusement, and now skips ahead of us in this weird little tree farm. It's, surprsingly, not picked over. With the snow on the ground and the trees everywhere, it's gorgeous here. We never usually get a Christmas tree, just open presents by the fire place. My mom and I can never manage to keep plants alive for more than a few days, but I'm sure Peeta can remind me. Prim always calls us the plant murderers. I laugh at the memory.

"What?" Peeta asks, studying me with his hands in his pockets.

"Nothing… So what price will I pay for your kindness?" I smile.

His lips twist into a frown. "There are so many options. Only a few of them are acceptable for the time being."

"What do you mean?"

"Must I give an example?" He asks. I nod and he blushes a bit. He's adorable when he's embarrassed. He scratches the back of his head, lowering his voice so Prim doesn't hear. "Would you rather be naked, tied down to a bed for a fw hours, or hold two dictionaries above your head for a _half_ an hour?" My eyes widen and I gulp.

"I'm going to go with the second one..." I breathe.

"Thought so." He sighs.

"For now."


	10. Chapter 10

Peeta is surprisingly strong. I have to tear my eyes away from his arms after he removed his cardigan and lifted the tree so I could get it into the stand. I kneel down and I just know Peeta's eyes are on my behind.

He chuckles as I grunt with effort, unable to turn one of the screws. Prim has gotten down the ornaments, all of them made of glass and they shimmer in the light protruding from the fire place. Prim is clingy towards Peeta, talking to him and telling him things I didn't even know she knew, like the origin of Christmas trees.

"How come you're not as smart as her?" Peeta asks me, grinning as Prim laughs.

"Oh, shut up." I mutter, and even though I'm smiling, Peeta raises his eyebrows as if to ask "Did you just say that?" I purse my lips, wiping my hands of tree sap and standing.

"Do you have two dictionaries?" Peeta whispers with a wolfish grin.

"Textbooks." I say.

"That'll do."

We help Prim decorate the tree to her liking, and when it's done it's… beautiful. You know, I've always thought the fact we never get Christmas trees anymore was because it always used to be my father's job. Maybe that's why I feel so drawn to Peeta, as if we were magnets of opposite poles. I feel he's a replacement or more apt, a therapy for the time I've spent without a male figure in my life. Maybe that's why, for now, I want to be the submissive. Because what girl bosses around her father? But, when the time comes, I don't think I'll deny becoming the Dom. God, it's getting confusing again.

Prim sits down and admires the tree, and I tell her, "We'll be upstairs for a little while." She nods, and I lead Peeta to my room.

"Green and pink?" he asks, looking at my bright walls.

"It was painted when I was ten. Back off."

"Was that another unpleasant remark, young lady?" His voice is low, husky and taunting. He's about to say something else when he sees my desk in the corner of my room where I do homework, three textbooks laying atop it. He smirks, saying, "Go get them." I whine, slinking over to the table and grabbing the two smallest ones, though each of them has 400 pages at least.

"Peeta, this are heavy as hell." I complain as he wanders over to my bed, sitting down. He studies a picture of me from two years ago, back when my hair was short and my skin golden.

"Hell's a place, not an object." He mumbles, taking in as much of the picture as he can for some reason, adding, "Hold them above your head with the spines facing the ceiling." I do so, putting my weight on one foot. "Stand straight. Don't bend your elbows."

"God dammit…"

* * *

After about twenty minutes it becomes too much. "Right now, I'd much rather be tied down to my bed." I whimper.

"Naked?" He asks. He's lying down on my bed, and I have to say the sight of him there is pretty hot. His fingers are laced behind his neck, his ankles crossed.

"Would you stare?" I question.

"Miss Everdeen, I would gape." He chuckles. I narrow my eyes, knowing what images are going through his head.

"I should strap _you_ to my bed so you can't torture me anymore." I kid.

"Feel free."

"Feel free to realize the humor in that." I retort. I drop my arms and the textbooks suddenly, making Peeta jump. "Now my arms are forever unusable." I grumble. He smiles.

"Katniss, that wasn't a half an hour." He shakes his head disapprovingly.

"Close enough?" He shakes his head again and I sigh. "What's the next form of child cruelty?" I ask.

"What if I tie you to the bed with your clothes on? So you can get the idea for when I want to really tie you up. Or when you, I." I kind of like the idea of tying him up though I feel like I shouldn't. He takes my silence as an okay. "Do you have any belts?" he asks. _Oh dear._

"Yes sir." I murmur, going to my closet and getting two out.

"Two more." He orders. I obey, nervous and kind of excited. "Come lay face up." I crawl onto my bed and sprawl out, and he begins his work tying each of my limbs to the post nearest them. You will never know how erotic this is. When he's done, he sits crisscross applesauce between my legs. I can only lift my head a bit to look at him.

"You know, laying there not doing anything, you're really turning me on…" he purrs, crawling over me, his hands planted on either side of my head.

"Peeta, my sister's downstairs." I warn. He looks so happy, but certainly not in a boyish way. We stare at each other, and suddenly I blurt, "My mother comes back tomorrow." He frowns, apparently having the same output as I: if my mom comes back, our lack of restriction goes away. He leans down, kissing my lips softly. Way too softly. It's mocking and provocative. When he pulls away I want his soft warm mouth to return.

"What are you suggesting, Katniss?" He hints.

"I'm not really sure." I breathe.

"Do you want me to take you a step further?" He asks as he kisses below my ear. It gives me goose bumps.

"It depends what that means."

"I don't want to ruin the fun, young lady. Just tell me to stop when I'm going too far." I feel him tug on my earlobe with his teeth and involuntarily I let out a soft moan. I shut myself up, closing my eyes and letting him wander. His lips find mine again and he kisses me forcefully. It's sensual and foreign to me, a weird feeling when his tongue invades my mouth, dancing with mine. I thought French kissing like this would be gross, but it's most certainly not. It's like I'm lost at sea as he tilts his head, his mouth sealed over mine. He clears the fog in my brain by skimming his hand down my side, all the way to my hip where it stops, going in reverse, back up my side but this time, under my shirt. His hands are big and rough and I don't know what to pay attention to; his tongue or his exploring fingers.

He starts to kiss my neck again, his hand sliding, coming to a halt beneath my breast. I know what he's going to do. "Please don't touch me there yet." I pant. That'd be way too far, and I don't want this to come to a sudden halt like it did yesterday. On command, his hand moves away, back down to my hip. I don't mind his touch there, but he seems incapable of not touching me somewhere awkward. His hand goes to my behind, squeezing. Unwillingly, my hips buck into his and his lips curve into a smile against my skin. I want to squirm away like I did last time when I feel his erection. I gasp, stammering, "I-I think I've had enough."

"Is the ass off limits too?" He asks, removing his hand from my backside.

"No, it's not that. Untie me please." His brow furrows and he obeys, taking his sweet old time. I sit up when he's finished. "Sorry." I murmur.

"What happened?" He asks; his frown deep and utterly confused. I look to him with a look that asks _you really don't know? _"Tell me." He orders, not in the mood for games since I stopped him once again.

"I felt your… Oh my god, no." I whimper. He knows what I'm talking about. He smiles deliciously, lying down and wrapping his legs around my hips as if we were grappling. I cackle, trying to squirm away. "What are you doing?" I giggle, and he uses his strength to get me to where he wants. My back is to his stomach as I lie on him. I still feel him against my spine. You know what I mean.

"I think it's quite funny when you blush." He says. He wraps his arms around my neck, pretending to squeeze. "It's at your misfortune I used to wrestle." I laugh and try to pry his hands free. "You're a strong girl, Katniss. Get on top." He chuckles.

I twist, managing to get my head free. I turn in his legs, facing him. "Ha ha." I snap. I try not to center my weight on his lap as I pin him. My wrists are restraining his and I give him a challenging look. I laugh as he squeezes his legs around my hips harder, getting his hands free. Instead of fighting against me again, he grabs my hair, pushing it all to one side of my head so he can get a clear shot to my lips, and he kisses me.

I know what he wants. I forcefully unravel his hands from my locks, pinning them above his head. Not too hard. What _is _hard is trying not to think about his boner. He wants me. I want him… but not yet. I try to think of something that would seem dominant and pushy, so a grab his jaw in a vise grip. He's stuck in an irreversible position. There's a certain primal drive that makes owning him, like this, kind of sexy. He groans against my lips, which sends a flurry of butterflies roaring in my stomach, the sensation roaming further south.

"Katniss, if you don't want to scar your sister for life, you should stop now." He breathes, his lips never stopping though.

"I really don't want to." I murmur. I don't. Is it because I'm on top now? Maybe I don't like feeling small and like I'm a possession.

"You can't leave me hanging again." He whispers. I would imagine he needs the pleasure more than me. I don't know a lot about guy's anatomies, but I'm sure an erection left alone is a bit uncomfortable. He kisses me desperately, and he begins to push against my hips again with his, but this time he grinds against my sex. I inhale sharply, reveling in restrained the feeling.

"Take me Katniss," he begs, "please." He wants me to _take him_?

"My sister is downstairs." I object, swinging my hips away from him. He looks to me with wide eyes, as if I'd let him down. I sit up, touching his jaw, saying, "I'm sorry." He tries to kiss me again but I shake my head, pushing on his chest. How did I so suddenly take his place as Dom? "No."

He sighs, running his hand over his hair. He sits up as well, telling him, "If I really wanted to be the Dom I'd take you anyway." That doesn't really turn me off, but it's not nice.

"Can that be my Christmas present?" he asks.

"Sex?"

"Yeah. Your body." He purrs. I blush wildly, leaning back as he leans forward.

"We'll see."

"I think I deserve it." He chuckles, "I've played nice so far. My patience is wearing thin."

I hold up a belt that's discarded on the floor, muttering "Next time you make me blush, I'll whip you."

"I want to fuck you." He hisses. I turn beet red again. He laughs as I pretend to lash him with it, actually hitting him. I expect him to say ouch, but he just looks at me. "Now I _really _want to fuck you."

"Oh look at the time. You should go, Master." I beam sarcastically, and he chuckles at the name.

"Seems you're acting like the Dom lately. I should start calling _you_ that, _Master_." He grins.

I kiss his lips, telling him he should leave, and that Prim's been by herself for quite a while. I walk him downstairs and before he exits the front door for the night, I whisper "I do think you'll get what you wished for on Christmas, young man."


	11. Chapter 11

Our mother arrives home at noon. Tomorrow is Christmas eve, and Peeta had me sidetracked, so we didn't wrap or even hide my mother's present. It's leaning against the wall in my room. I still haven't spoken to Peeta today, and I check my phone as mom goes to get some water. I follow her, knowing what she's going to bring up.

"So," she starts, grinning and leaning over the counter, "tell me about him. What does he look like?"

"Um… a little taller than me. Blonde. Burly." I say, a blush rising to my cheeks. She leans back, crossing her arms.

"And his eyes?"

"Blue." I answer immediately. Those eyes have taunted me for days. They're not something a woman can easily forget.

"I see." She murmurs, rubbing her chin, "He sounds hot."

"Mom!"

* * *

Eventually, I get the text I was waiting for.

*I really don't feel like waiting for my Christmas present…* It reads.

*Don't get impatient. If you do, I'll tie you to my bed.* I send quickly. I hide my phone as my mom passes me, asking me if it's him. I nod, picking it up again as it vibrates.

*Naked?*

*Hmm… Yes.*

* * *

The day sails by, and Peeta is on my mind constantly. I've just barely managed to keep my mother and Prim out of my room and away from my mother's present. Apparently, Prim has wished for a dog this Christmas. The crazy thing is, my mom's getting her the fucking dog. Even crazier, she wants Peeta to come.

"Go ahead. He's your first boyfriend, I want to meet him. You can always tell if a guy is good by the way he treats animals." She says.

I pause, narrowing my eyes. "Okay. Strange." I call him up, getting butterflies in my stomach at the sound of his voice. It's been too long. Like, 20 hours too long.

"Hi." He purrs.

"Hey. So, here's the thing. Prim asked for a puppy for Christmas." I whisper, incase she's near, "and we're getting it for her. My mom's home and she wants you to come."

"Really?"

"Mhm…" I'm trying to gouge his reaction.

"Alright then. When should I be there?" I blink. That was easy.

"You're really coming?" I ask.

"On one condition… You come to my house tonight, telling your mom I have presents I need help wrapping, and I give me my present early." He growls. His voice is assertive again. _Okay now he's the Dom. Gah! How does this work?!_ Do I even want this? He's hot and he's really intriguing, but… I don't know. Something about this doesn't seem right. I wave of nervousness floods over me.

"Okay," I breathe, my voice raspy and unsure, "deal. Be here at four."

* * *

It's about 3:45, and I'm just now bringing up the important subject of tonight. My mom is in the living room, looking up at the tree. "He did this?" she asks, her eyes never leaving the masterpiece as I sit on the couch behind her. The room is dimly lit, the tree the only thing providing light. My mom is obviously astonished. My lips twitch as I try to hide my smile, resting my elbows on my knees.

"Yeah, he did. He was very disappointed to see we had no tree." I murmur. She shakes her head, a happy look on her face. "So, Peeta has some presents for his brothers he needs to wrap and he needs my help." I blurt.

She looks to me, obviously seeing a motive here. "Will his parents be there?" she asks.

"Yes." I say a little too quickly. She stares for a few _more _moments.

"Alright. What time do you think you'll get home?"

"I don't know. I'll text you when we're done." I tell her, pretending to be nonchalant. I'm kind of horrified by what I just said. "Wrapping. Done wrapping." I add hastily.

She laughs. "Katniss, I trust you. Don't get all jumpy. Is it the right decision to trust you?" She raises her eyebrows.

"Yeah." I mumble. Typical motherly question. She nods contently. I roll my eyes when she turns away, though she should be very worried. If only she knew Peeta like I do. She walks down the hall, and the doorbell rings. I get up and scurry to the door. I open it, seeing Peeta's wide smile.

"I told my mom you live with your family. And hi." I hiss. He smile widens into a wicked grin as he steps in.

"Does that have something to do with my present?" he asks.

"It has everything to do with it." I grumble as my mom comes around the bend. I put on a happy face and say, "Peeta this is my mom." He gives her an utterly dazzling smile. He shakes her hand, nodding politely.

"This seems a bit surreal," she says, "I just can't believe the influence you've had on Katniss."

He grins, looking down on me. "She's a very nice girl." He tells her, his eyes on me. I blush and look away. My mom grabs her coat, saying we should leave before Prim comes downstairs and asks where we're going.

Peeta and I leave first and he mutters, "I could so beat you to the car."

"You're putting on a show for my mom. And no you couldn't." I look up at him. We both rush forward at the same time, laughing like middle-schoolers. I can feel my mom's eyes on us. We both reach the passenger's door at the same time, fighting to push each other out of the way. I'm giggling like crazy as I get the upper hand, and he backs off.

"Ha ha," I snap, "I get shotgun."

He grins and says, "You'll pay for that." His voice is soft so my mother doesn't hear as she walks to the driver's seat.

"Oh, I hope I do." I lie quietly. My mom is giving me a disapproving look and I whine, "I won fair and square." She shakes her head, and we all get in, escaping the freezing air.

* * *

"Dear god, I'm surrounded by temptation." I say, making Peeta laugh. There's a small room in Pet Smart, filled with puppies and families looking to adopt them. I kneel down, petting a small, yapping Pit Bull. It rolls on its back and I pet its belly as Peeta goes to his knees as well. A small beagle pulls on his jacket.

My mother comes to us, asking, "What kind of dog would Prim want?" Peeta is distracted, trying to get the end of his coat back in one piece. He decides to just pick the small tri-colored dog up. I pet it while it squirms in his arms, licking his face, my other hand being gnawed on.

"Something small that she could carry around," Peeta says, "I would imagine." My mom's impressed, because he's 100% right. I shake my head, smiling. He's amazing.

"That?" I suggest. I nod to a small white ball of fluff. The beagle squirms away from Peeta and he lets it go. It yaps and runs off as fast as its little legs can carry it. My mother goes to talk to an employee about shedding and whatnot. I turn to Peeta. "Well this is fun." I say as another small pup crawls into his lap.

"I can think a few things a little more enthralling." He smirks. Oh, how fast his demeanor can change.

"Puppies turn you on, Master?" I tease. He tilts his head back and laughs. It makes me feel satisfied.

"Puppies? No, not really. I just can't wait to go home and wrap presents with you." He puts air quotes around wrap and presents.

"You're so impatient. I would say the puppies have turned you on." The conversation stops as my mother returns, holding the small white cotton ball.

"So? What do you think?" she asks.

"It's adorable." I say, smiling. Peeta leans over and asks me if it has a face. I stifle my giggle. My mother goes through the pain-staking process of actually buying it as Peeta and I purchase food and such. He carries a bag of puppy chow as I carry the small bed and two toys.

"So, according to you puppies turn me on. But what such things turn you on?" he asks me, one hand in his pocket, looking at his feet.

I'm surprised, since I really don't know. I shrug, a blush coming to my cheeks once again. "I couldn't tell you… Give me some… examples?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Well… does the idea of being put through pain still scare you?"

"Um… kind of." I say, "Depends on the pain, I guess."

"What if I spanked you?" he suggests. I stop in my tracks, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"If you _spanked me_?" I repeat his question. He nods.

"Would you like a visual?" He smirks.

"I'm not sure."

"You'd be naked," he says and I flush. He really doesn't care if anyone hears. "It's really just like spanking a child. No, scratch that, that was weird." Even though the subject is so awkward, I giggle. "You'd lay across my knee, or lay with your stomach on a bed and your knees on the floor. Yeah." He grins.

"You're so sick." I mutter as we reach the register.

"Maybe so. You can spank me anytime you'd like, though."

"Will you keep your voice down?" I growl as he lays the dog food on the small conveyer belt, and the young woman scans it. I know she heard.

"Oh, feisty." He taunts. I roll my eyes as the woman tells us it'll be sixty two dollar. Hot damn. I give her a fifty a ten and a five. We go and meet up with my mother.

"I have a question." Peeta states, the enormous bag of dog food over his shoulder. For god sakes, the dog only weighs like seven pounds.

"Ask away." My mother tells him.

"Where are you going to keep the dog?"

"At a friend's. She's willing to look after him for a day or two." Peeta nods, a weird smile on his face. "Well, let's go. Prim will be getting curious." She says, and Peeta grins down at me. I try not to meet his eyes.

* * *

We arrive home empty handed. Prim interrogates us. "Where'd you go?"

"To the store." Mom says coolly.

"What store?"

"Why does it matter?" I snap, brushing past her.

"Because!" she cries, moving onto Peeta. "Where'd you go?" He puts his hand up in innocence. She huffs and walks off, picking up Buttercup.

I smile at Peeta as he says, "Shall we go?" I twiddle my thumbs, almost shaking with nervousness. I feel like such a bad person.

"Mom?" I call.

"Yeah?" she asks from the kitchen.

"Peeta and I are leaving. His mom wants him back by nine." I fib, looking at the clock. 8:45.

"Alright. Call me and tell me when you think you'll be headed back." She says.

"Okay." I sigh a bit shakily.

"Are you sure you want to come? You don't have to help." Peeta's voice is just loud enough so my mom can hear. I look in his deep blue eyes, meeting his volume.

"I want to."

"Good." He leans down and kisses me, getting my coat for me. I tell mom I love her, and we leave. By now, I'm shaking. What if she finds out? What if Peeta hits me? Does he think I'll hurt him? Oh dear…


	12. Chapter 12

_**I am trying to meet your demands. Some of you are on the side for Peeta being to Dom, some of you aren't. I'm doing my best.**_

The drive is short but surprisingly, Peeta and I are talkative. I'm just trying to keep my mind clear of all the dark images I'm seeing of him in my head. "So are you seeing any of your family on Christmas?" I ask slowly.

"I don't think so." He says. I look at him, my brow furrowed. He seems so normal when he's not being a pervert, I almost forget about the situations he used to be in; about how his parents treated him and all that.

"Will you come see me?" I ask. I just feel so bad for him.

His eyes brighten and he smiles. "Of course. If you want me to." He says shyly. Our conversation comes to an abrupt halt when he parks. "Come on." He says softly. I step out of the car, following the somewhat familiar route up to his door, my hand locked in his. He opens the door, pulling me in before him, closing the door behind us. I look to him, feeling small and childish. He's looking me up and down, soaking in the details of my body.

"You're making me blush." I grumble, removing my coat. He gives me a swift and sly smile, taking my jacket and throwing it. "So orderly." I say, looking at my blue coat. He laughs and walks to me in two strides, wrapping his arms around me. I feel like I should be acting coy; like I am ready for the act to come.

"Are you going to unwrap your present?" I ask, breathless.

"You look very nervous. Scared, even." He says cautiously.

"I am," I admit, "but god, do I want you." With that, he grabs my jaw, crushing my lips with his. His hands skim down my spine to my rear, squeezing me. Our bodies are pressed together and I tilt my head back, surrendering to his tongue.

This is why it's confusing. I don't know if he's planning to dominate me. Should I try to dominate him? Should I play it like a game? I don't want to, though…

His lips move to my jaw. He's not planning to… he's not going to have us do it on the couch, is he? As if reading my mind, his lips move against my skin as he asks, "Where?"

"What?" I ask. Did he really just ask that?

"Tell me where. It's up to you. Here?" he asks. My face is completely red, I'm sure of it.

"N-no…" I stammer, covering my face with one hand.

He smirks. "My bad." He chuckles, seeing I'm blushing like there's no tomorrow as he continues nipping at my skin.

"Ah…" I gasp as I feel his teeth on me. He groans at my reaction, which makes me blink. Do I really want this? He leans back, kissing me again. His tongue invades my mouth. _Oh, yes I do. I do, I do, _something deep inside me says as I feel my muscles down south clench. My hands are tugging at his shirt and hair.

"Come." he snaps, taking my hand, leaving me gasping for air, walking me down an unlit hall. I put my hand on the wall, as he tugs me through a doorway, reconnecting our lips. He tugs on my hair, giving my neck fiery wet kisses. He continues to nip and suck, and he orders, "Take off my shirt." I gulp, my hands finding the seam of his long-sleeve in the darkness. I pull it up, my fingers gliding over his warm skin. I don't have a voice right now, so I can't order him to do the same for me. I jump, feeling his hands skim up my back, under my shirt as he presses me against a wall that's cold to the touch. His hands continue sliding, taking my shirt with them. I'm scared as I put my arms over my head, and next thing I know his bare stomach is hard-pressed against mine. One hand slides under the strap of my white bra, the other in the waist of my jeans. I squirm, feeling like I have no authority here at all.

I wiggle, getting my hands free, grabbing either side of his face, taking control of the kiss. He must know I can't lead him completely, but he still surrenders to my small dominant act.

He undoes my belt, ripping it out of its loops, discarding it blindly. I rest one of my hands on his bicep now, feeling the contortions and movements as he changes positions. He knows this room like the back of his hand, obviously because lifts me up, setting my softly down on a bed. He carries me as if I weighed nothing, and he hooks his hands under my arms, moving me up like a child so my head is resting on a pillow. I feel awkward, lying there as the bed shifts with his weight and I feel him hovering over me. He kisses my cheek, then my jaw, then my neck once again. I rue seeing what I will look like when this is all over. With one deft hand, he undoes the button on my jeans, sliding down the zipper painfully slow. He slides my pants down my hips, and I close my eye. This is so weird for me.

My pants are gone and I don't know where to. "Katniss," Peeta asks, "Are you alright with this?"

I look down on him. I can see his silhouette; broad muscular shoulders against the dim moon light. His caution and his worry surprisingly calm me. "So far." I say; my voice raspy. He crawls over me again, his face inches from mine. He's looking at me expectantly. What does he want? I blink, pushing him back. He sits back on his heels, watching as my hands clumsily undo his belt, pulling it out and tossing it. I don't really want to look as I push his pants down past his hips, and he kicks them off. He's wearing red and blue plaid boxers. It's just, you know, what's under the boxers…

He lays me back down, his hand on the small of my back. It doesn't stay there long, for he unclasps my bra without my knowing. I gasp as he slides the straps down my arms, bringing the whole thing with them. I feel like I could curl up and hide as he looks down on me. The second I move my arms to cover myself, he clasps both of my wrists in one hand, restraining them above my head. _Now that, _I think, _that definitely turns me on. Remember to tell him_. Instinctively, because of this newfound desire blossoming up from south of my belly button, I wrap one of my legs around his hips, pulling him down into me. I feel his hard-on against my sex and unwillingly, I moan.

"Impatient, Ms. Everdeen?" he asks as I mewl.

"Yes." I snap, kissing him even rougher. I still when his hand begins to knead my breast. I really don't want to be touched there but it feels _so _good. He kisses my jaw, tugging lightly on my earlobe. My body is just flooded with sensation as my fingers curls around the elastic waistband of his boxers. _Oh no…_ I think as his lips travel down; down my neck and collarbone to my breasts. After teasing it with his finger, his mouth finds my nipple. I hiss, twisting my hands in his hair. His hand headily slides down my panties, and I'm praying he won't touch me _there_. I grab his head, kissing him passionately, mimicking what I've seen him do as he pushes down his own boxers, kicking them off as if he couldn't stand them between us. He pins my hands again and I become utterly helpless. I hear a small crackle, like that of foil.

His lips are sealed on mine as I feel him inside me. I yelp, my hands beginning to worm their way free, but it's not possible. He forces me to kiss him as I feel him pump once; slowly. I can't move at all, and the feeling is nothing like I thought it would be. His movements are slow and deliberate but I'm in pain, my eyes clenched shut, making small, hopeless sounds. My knees are clamped around his hips and I try to turn my head away from his lips, but he grabs my jaw, holding me captive. I whimper, moving my hips away from his. I'm about to cry out for him to stop, to get the hell off of me, when he pushes into me again, and I'm flooded with ecstasy. He feels the muscles in my legs relax, and he stops kissing me. It's now obvious he was forcing me into this, riding out whatever wave of pain I was feeling. It seems a bit sick, now that I think of it.

He growls audibly, his cheek pressed against mine as he picks up the pace a bit. I moan, my hips moving at the rhythm he's setting. I'm subconsciously fighting him, wriggling and trying to work my hands free. He grabs at my hip with his able hand, kissing my cheek and then my jaw. _He's stopping me from moving… why? _Every thought I have is quickly swiped away. I tilt my head back as he kisses my collarbone, light as a feather. My mind is a mess, trying to balance out his soft warm lips as he assaults me from below. My back is arched and my muscles melt with his presence inside me. I can barely move.

I whine as he curses under his breath, which strangely sends a flurry of butterflies in my stomach. He's really hot when he's saying those things. I, on the other hand, can mutter nothing but cries and, "Oh god…" His hand at my hip moves down to my bottom, squeezing and he smiles when I squeak and buck into him.

His smile soon fades and he grunts, pushing away my leg as my knees squeeze his hips again. It's so hard to be controlled like this while feeling so vulnerable. "Fuck…" he gasps, and I feel the consciousness of the great sensation of every pump grow, becoming so overwhelming I can't even hear what's coming out of my own mouth.

Ever so slowly, I climb up so high I fall, losing myself around him, yelling and crying out. He keeps thrusting, cursing low obscenities in my ear until he hits his wall too; clenching my wrists so tight I inhale sharply, thinking _ow, ow, ow! _He stills, our panting breath filling the air. He turns his head, gulping and kissing my cheek. I stare at the ceiling, wincing as he pulls out of me. He lets my hands go, still hovering over me.

"You alright?" he asks. I open my eyes and look into his.

"Y-yes." I pant. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. _Caring Peeta is back. I don't know which one I like more, _I think, though the Peeta that was forcing himself into me when I dearly wanted him to stop was a bit frightening.

"You want to go?" he's hinting at another round. I couldn't possibly, not with the way I'm feeling _down there_, which is raw and tender.

"I have to. My mom will worry." I say, covering my chest with my arm. He leans over the bed, grabbing my bra and handing it to me. I put it on and he pecks me on the lips.

"I like wrapping presents with you." He grins, managing to get me to smile too. I shake my head and he swings his legs over the side of the bed, slipping on his boxers. Quickly, while he's not looking, I put on my panties. "I hope I haven't scared you…" he breathes, touching my ankle gingerly, absentmindedly.

"N-no, you haven't," I say, "I'm just a bit breathless." I smile at him and in the dim moonlight he visually relaxes.

"Well Master, shall I drive you home?" he asks, making my giggle.

"Can I have my shirt?"

"Nope." He smirks, taking my clothes and walking out of the room.

"Peeta!"

_**Viola! **_


	13. Chapter 13

**_This chapter I did some homework on. You'll be impressed. And chill, things will soon get a hell of a lot rougher._**

Playful Peeta has apparently returned. He's disappeared, and his apartment is a hell of a lot bigger than it looks. I grab his gray colored hoodie that's been thrown on the couch and cover myself, only wearing my panties and underwear.

"You," I growl, "you're evil." I growl, hearing him laugh form down the hall and I crawl on his couch. A thought runs through my mind: _Why does he want me to stay longer? For more sex? _It's obvious that's why he's playing this game. And then it hits me. Peeta's _lonely_. Now he's finally found someone to spend time with him; I even asked if I could see him on Christmas. He was so happy to hear it.

I blink away my thoughts. I turn, curled up in a ball and grab a blanket that's hanging over the back of the couch. "Where'd you go?" I yell.

"Nowhere." He says, walking out of a room, emerging into the light. A pair of sweatpants hangs from his hips and I narrow my eyes.

"I have to go. I think my mom will go ape-shit if I come home, when it's freezing outside, barely dressed." I say. I sit on my knees and he comes and sits next to me. "Seriously, where'd you put my clothes?"

"You know what?" He sighs, putting his hands on his thighs, "I don't remember." I scoff, standing and walking off.

"I'll go find them." I warn. He shrugs and turns, watching me as I walk into a room. Paintings. I enter and look at some of them. He walked out of this room; they have to be in here! I push aside a few drawings, looking at one with a gorgeous sunset set over a cliff of rocks, green vines spindling downward. God, that boy is talented. I scratch my head, pulling his hoodie tighter around me, looking around again. A small chair sits by the window that's in a circle of easels. My eye catches a very dark painting, and it makes me stumble back with my hand on my heart. It's a girl chained to a bed, her legs apart and her body bare and naked. Her head is hanging and you can't see her face as her dark bangs flop over her face, and it looks as if her ankles are tied to something out of the picture. The visual is horrid, and she has marks on her breasts, which means she must have been tortured or whipped in some form. I close my eyes and look away, managing to close my agape mouth.

"My god…" I breathe, "What have I gotten myself into?" Apparently these dark images are still rolling through his mind. I pry my eyes open and look back. I move the picture away with a sick feeling when I see her dark, sided French braid. I throw open a closet door, and up on the top shelf, I see my jeans. I pray my shirt's there too. I stand on a box and grab them. My shirt falls over my face as I grab my pants. I throw off Peeta's hoodie and replace it with my own clothes. I keep my eyes away from the rest of the paintings and drawings and I scurry out of the room.

Peeta's lying on the couch, and approaching from the back I can only see his feet dangling off of the end. I grab his keys off of the kitchen table and I throw them on his chest. He jumps, opening his eyes. I'm standing over him, my lips set in a hard line. "Come on, I have to go." I say in a raspy voice, and he holds the keys, sitting up with a frown.

"What's your problem?" he asks.

"Nothing." I snap, turning my back on him.

"Look, I'm sorry I hid your clothes. I was just goofing around." He tries.

"Come on!" I snap, making him jump, "I have to go home!" He blinks a few times, his lips parted slightly in shock. He stands up, but I'm still _standing over _him in a sense. He hangs his head, just like the girl in the picture.

"Okay." He murmurs. He retrieves his shoes and a jacket, and he opens the door for me. I walk down the hall, rerunning the route to his car. "Whatever I've done, I take it back." He says form behind me. He sounds like a child, weak and worrisome. I walk down the stairs, my breath fogging in the air the second it leaves my body.

"Can I just sulk in my own thoughts for now?" I say. I don't give a shit if this is out of the blue and unfair; I deserve it. I sit in the passenger seat as Peeta silently starts the car.

.

I slam the door, never speaking a word to Peeta after I got out of the car. I try to plaster a smile on my face when I pass Prim but she frowns and watches me as I go to the kitchen, grab a glass and pour some orange juice into it. "Katniss," my mother asks, making me jump, "what's wrong?"

I look to her, my eyes wide. "N-nothing's wrong," I stutter, "I'm just a little mad at Peeta right now." I sip from my orange juice, sitting at the table as Prim tries to discreetly watch us.

"Uh oh," she says, sitting next to me. "Okay. Tell me what he did." Shit. What do I tell her?

"He… he's just trying to keep me in the dark." I say. She reaches out, playing with the end of my braid. I had redone my hair in Peeta's car, since I looked like I had been fucked. _Hard_.

"About what?"

"His family." I say. It's not _really _a lie. I don't know anything about his family other than he was beaten. He has two brothers. That's it.

"Is there some kind of problem in his family?"

"I think…" I look away, my finger running along the brim of my glass. "He's scared of his mom. His brothers are, too."

"You think maybe… she's abusive?" she asks gingerly.

"I don't know, mom. I'm going to go to bed, and sleep this off."

.

I'll never sleep, I know that. I'm on my laptop, looking up punishments for a submissive. Caning pops up on every website along with pictures of women's red and beaten bottoms, some of them are even bleeding. I read some sort of excerpt about a woman being tied to a ladder and then being beaten until she went limp in her restraints. There are "physical restrictions", like having your hands cuffed all day. The writer of the document said belts and hands don't work for spanking as a _punishment_, so you must use canes or even riding crops. Restrictions also include being told to sit in a small room for hours, all alone.

What the hell are thigh cuffs?

A punishment using a riding crop, for example, apparently has rules. You don't just beat someone senseless. You make a fixed number, say twelve, and hit the Sub twelve times. Like if you were to ignore your chores for a day, you get twenty-four strikes. One for every hour. Peeta has already demonstrated a tweaked version of standing in a corner, which is another old punishment. It'd give you time to "think about what you've done." A similar punishment is kneeling on a hard surface, which can cause nerve damage, or kneeling on uncooked rice, which is a step up from that. If I were ever to become "too vanilla" I could be told to sleep on a tile floor, possibly naked while the Dom would sleep in a nice warm bed. Another one's a cold shower. Just the thought of it makes me shiver.

Some punishments are almost comical. Speaking in third person, which is a lessened version of "speech restrictions." Allowance restrictions? Seriously, I could get a lecture? A writing assignment or a bad chore, like cleaning the floor with a toothbrush? What am I, Cinderella? They're ridiculous! But one, one catches my attention: a Dominant showing anger. Wouldn't you kind of do that anyway? Apparently to a seriously messed up Sub, a Dom showing criticism or anger is a horrific nightmare, as if they're not cared for anymore.

Acts that deserve punishments are as simple as asking for money or ignoring chores. Why would I need money? Wait, no… I've been thinking of this the wrong way. It would be _Peeta _who's sleeping on the floor and being told not to speak at all. I whimper.

I slam my laptop and check my phone, seeing Peeta has texted multiple times, and called twice. He's worried. I shake my head, remembering what I figured out earlier. He was beaten when he was younger, and now he has nothing except for an empty apartment and no one but a distant brother and me. I read his messages.

*What did I do to you?*

*I'm sorry, will you call me?*

*Did I hurt you?*

These are the only few I read before I sink in with pity. I text him back:

*No you didn't. I just needed a breather. I looked something up on the internet…*

He shoots back immediately, and my anger and worry is ebbing away.

*What did you see? And what did you look up?* I can imagine his face etched with fear, and I'm picturing him as the Submissive who sees a Dominant's fear as about as scary as Paranormal Activity. God, that movie scared me shitless.

*I saw a picture. It looked like me… And I look up punishments.* I wince as I press send.

*Call me.* is his reply. This is going nowhere good. I put my phone to my ear after dialing his number and chew on my nail until he answers.

"Hey," he says, his voice relieved as if he thought I wouldn't call.

"Hi…" I breathe, bringing my knees up to my chest, waiting for him to speak.

"So you saw my painting?" he murmurs, edgy and nervous.

"Y-yes I did. It scared me. So I left," I say, and decide I should just let it all out and tell him what I've learned, "and I got home and my mom asked me what was wrong. I lied, kind of, and told her you have problems you're trying to hide from me, like about your family's problems. I brushed her off and uh, I hid in my room and looked up punishments. You know…"

"Why?" he asks.

"Because I got curious. Some of them are just… horrible." I stand and walk to my window, looking out at the streets which are lighted with Christmas decorations. I pull out my hair-tie and shake out my braid.

"Then don't do those ones," he says. I frown, trying to decipher what he meant by that. I turn my back on the window, leaning on it. "But I still want you to punish me." I cringe at how blunt he is, and by how much that… doesn't appeal to me. I did my homework; I know being a Dom means being in control during sex. That… that turns me on a bit, but not spanking him and not being spanked myself. _You never know until you try it_, my subconscious snarls.

"How do you want me to punish you?" I ask, resting my head against the wall and pinch the bridge of my nose, "I don't want to go _all out_, but maybe I can do… something." Immediately, the things he was probably wishing for have been thrown out the window.

"I don't know," he murmurs, "don't touch me."

"What?"

"Kiss me, but don't touch me." He says. That's… weird. Why would one begin to want that?

"Okay, I can do that…" I say, "My mom's leaving tomorrow at eleven with Prim for Christmas shopping. You can come over then." I say. I have this dying need to blurt something else as we say goodbye, but I don't know what.

"Well, this ought to be interesting…" I mutter, crawling in my bed.


	14. Chapter 14

_**This chapter's full of the good stuff!**_

There's a note on my door that reads "We'll be back this afternoon " Prim's handwriting is oh so recognizable. I take it down, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I drifted off at about four in the morning, so it's effortless to explain how tired I am, though it is almost eleven.

Shit! Peeta's coming over! I check the time, just to be exact. I have ten minutes. I flee, running into the bathroom and starting my shower. I strip, dragging my hands through my knotty hair before stepping under the showerhead. I try to be quick, shampooing and conditioning my hair, but apparently, I'm not fast enough. As I turn the water off, I hear the turn of a doorknob.

I gasp. "Don't you dare come in here!" I snap.

"Why not?" Madge's voice echoes off of the walls. I stick my head out of the curtain, an arm instinctively covering my breasts.

"Madge…" I say, surprised. Honestly, I thought her and I were done. Back when we were closer, she'd always invade like this, coming in and washing her face as I shower because she forgot to at home and things like that. "Why are you here?" Was that too blunt?

She shakes her head. "You were one of my closest friends ever, Katniss. I'm hoping we can kind of… forget the Peeta thing." She says, leaning against the counter.

"Oh…" I mumble, "That'll be kind of hard. He's coming here. Now."

"You two are still… a thing?" she asks with a smirk.

"Uh, yes." I smile a bit. "But you and I should hang out soon."

"I would hug you, but you're wet and naked and I would find that awkward. I got you a present. I left it on your bed. I should go before he gets here." She's always been so caring, yet strangely sly with her acts of kindness. "Love you!" she says, opening the door.

My small smile turns into a grin. "Bye…" I say as the door closes. The girl amazes me. I get out and wrap a towel around myself walking out into my bedroom, seeing the small pink box on my bed with a blue bow as I hear her car pull out of the driveway. I sit with my legs crossed, water dripping down from my hair as I pull off the ribbon carelessly, opening it. My eyes grow wide when I see the shimmer of a glossy flower on a small gold chain. It has three white pedals, a dash of purple in the middle. It's Katniss. I get all gooey for a moment, about ready to cry. I take it out of the box, going to the mirror and letting my towel drop to the floor as I put in on. It rests on my collarbone perfectly; subtle yet outstanding and gorgeous.

I hear the soft knock of a fist on the front door. I stick my head out the door and yell as loud as I can, "Come in!" I scuttle to my dresser, putting on a bra and looking for underwear.

"Nice view." Peeta mutters from the doorway, studying my behind. I grow bright red. He grins.

"Get out!" I squeal, "I said come _in _not _up_!"

"Aren't they one in the same?"

"Look away, _please_!" I'm kneeling on the ground, trying desperately to cover everything up. "Now!" I snarl. His teasing smile fades and he steps away from my room. I slip on my panties, putting on a Black Keys shirt and sweatpants.

I sigh, my face still cherry-red. I look out into the hall as he sits on the first step. "Alright, pervert, now you can come in." I mutter, and he stands, giving me an impossibly boyish smile and following me as I sit on my bed. He lies down aside me, his blue eyes bright and hopeful.

I have to address what's been nagging at me first. "Why'd you draw that picture of me?"

"It was back when you and I met the first time," he says openly, smile fading, "your picture was burned in my brain. You were so rude to me, I wanted to dominate you, work that disrespect out of you. Then I learned I really like your smart remarks." He smiles at me, and I melt, giving him one in return.

"So…" I murmur, leaning over him, "I'm not supposed to touch you?" He shakes his head. I narrow my eyes, remembering something I read last night. For a Submissive, sometimes it's more gratifying sexually if you can't see the Dom. "What if I blindfolded you?" I ask shyly.

"You're very outgoing suddenly." He says with a frown, propping himself up on his elbows. We stare at each other for a moment before he adds, "And that would be… quite the turn on, Master." I don't know if that's a nickname or he's seriously calling me his Master.

"I'll be right back." I tell him, standing and walking into my bathroom once again and grab the belt from my robe, which is about three sizes too big. I walk back to him with a shaky sigh as I try to remember details from last night's research. "Take your shirt off." I order. He quickly pulls his shirt over his head and I grab it, tossing it. I wrap the fabric belt around his head twice, double-knotting it, and he's officially sightless. I put my hand on his chest and push him into a laying position, grabbing his wrists and guiding his hand, so his fingers are laced behind his head.

"You should have ordered me to do that myself." He advises.

"Oh." I say, feeling a bit stupid for the obvious mistake. I mean, I'm not even supposed to be touching him. I take a moment to admire his body. He has a barrel-like chest and… well, it's fair to say he's in shape. "Spread your legs." I say, embarrassed even though no one's here. He obeys.

I crawl in-between his legs, leaning back and tying my hair into a bun so it won't fall over my face. I'm not quite big enough to kiss his lips from this position, so I start at his chest. He stills, tilting his head back a bit as my lips first touch his warm skin. My necklace dangles, touching him every now and again. He moves his arms slightly, tilting his head to one side. This must be torture for him, but he sure is liking it. I creep forward, moving my lips up, right under his nipple. He groans and moves his knee. It makes moving upwards even harder.

"Put it down." I order. He does so mechanically. My hands are planted on either side of him, and I finally get up to his collarbone. Some things come naturally, some things don't, so I stick to just kissing. No nibbling, no licking. He swallows hard, biting his lip as he moans again. Oh, that's hot. I can ignore the strangeness of this for long enough to realize I'm really turned on.

Maybe this is the right place for me. I'm hovering over him, causing him to squirm and whine, and it's making me want him… want all of this. "Should I touch you at all?" I ask, kissing his jaw.

"Mmm…" he grunts, "no not yet." I raise my eyebrow, kissing his lips passionately. He kisses me back timidly, which is erotic as well. I go back to kissing his jaw, just under his earlobe. He tilts his head for easier access, and I must admit, I'm inches from taking off his blindfold and asking him to… you know, please me. I really want it. I'm not sure what to do anymore.

"Um…" I say, pulling up his blindfold, blushing as he looks to me. He removes his hands from behind his head and takes off the strip of fabric. He sits up, grinning at me. He knots a hand in my hair and kisses me. I blink at him as he pulls away. "That was very sudden." I tell him.

"When will your mom and sister be back?" he asks.

"I don't know. They left me a note this morning, and it just said they'd be back this afternoon." I stumble over my words. Oh dear, what's he have planned?

He's tugging kind of hard on my hair, and he murmurs, "You still need a lot of training, young lady." I giggle and he lays me down, and I bite my lip to keep from gasping when his erection presses against my hip. He tugs on my shirt, snapping, "Off." I flush, removing my shirt and he adds, "Bra too." I'm as red as a tomato and he chucks my bra before I can think twice about this.

"Wait," I say and he freezes, "what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to teach you. A step or two further." He mumbles. My eyes go wide as he puts the belt of my robe over my eyes. I close them quickly so I don't get anything in my eyes and I gulp. I grab the comforter with clawed hands as he lifts my hips and tugs down my sweatpants.

I hiss through my teeth when I realize what he's going to do, pushing my panties down my hips. "No, no!" I cry and he steels, stopping immediately. "Please don't touch me down there." I push up my blindfold and look down on him.

"Why not?"

"That's completely awkward!"

"But you can't see." He tries to convince. He purses his lips and finally snaps, "Just lay down. Trust me." It was an order. My lips are parted, and I'm about to say something when he leans forward, whispering, "When a Submissive doesn't behave, they're punished, Katniss. I really want to spank you right now."

"I…" I'm at a loss for words, gawking at him. I've given this man my trust, my virginity and my body. All of my body. "Just don't use your mouth. Please." I pant. I don't want to be hit. He pushes the blindfold back over my eyes. That wasn't really the answer I wanted.

He kisses my breast, ordering softly, "Put your hands over your head and don't move them, alright?" I nod once, obeying, trying not to moan. I can't keep it in any longer as he takes my taut nipple into his mouth. He puts his hand between my knees and shoves them apart, moving inside of them. "You have to trust me. You can't be embarrassed because I touch you while you're naked. When you get into the swing of things, you'll find it very annoying if I do the same."

When I get into the swing of things? _You mean, when I'm riding you like a cowgirl with a whip in my hand? _I yelp when I feel his hand cupping my sex. "Ah…" I exhale, arching my back as his fingers begin to move. They work against my exposed wetness, circling around and around a ball of muscle. I jump slightly when his lips seal off mine, but I can barely kiss him back, for I'm too busy moaning and crying. His fingers move fluidly and as do his lips, and I find my hips bucking instinctively. He leans back, the presence of his able hand and his mouth gone completely. It's so frustrating to try and think where he'll touch me next while feeling such… "Ooh…" I groan, grabbing my own hair and pulling.

His fingers torture my clitoris, and I whimper as I become close to hitting my wall. His finger is reintroduced, his thumb skimming over my bottom lip as I breathe heavily, and then he flattens his palm against my cheek, letting it skate down until he reaches my breast, kneading. His touch is enthralling and I put my arms down by my sides just a few moments before my body gets a jolt, and I scream an obscenity, falling off of my tightrope and riding out the wonderful orgasm. I fight a rising squeal as he flips me on my back after grabbing my hips, and next thing I know I hear a loud '_slap!' _followed by a searing pain on my behind. "Ah!" I shout. He fucking spanked me!

"Ow…" I whimper, about to rub my ass when he slaps it again. I wail once, clenching my fists as I ready myself for a third blow. _Why am I not stopping him? _

"You don't even realize what you're doing wrong yet?" he teases in a dark, lustful tone, striking again. _What am I doing wrong? _I assess myself, giving a short sob; a sound laced with pleasure. _I'm loving this and I don't even realize it._ "Fix it, Katniss." He warns, swatting me again. _My arms! _Hastily, I put them back over my head, my cheek against my pillow as I lay on my stomach. The assault stops. I feel his lips against the small of my back, peppering kisses up my spine. I'm already exhausted, but I have a feeling he's not done with me.

"Eventually, Master…" he murmurs, his lips now moving against my neck as he speaks, but I can feel his playfully sadist smile, "you promise you'll take your revenge?"

"Oh, I promise." I hiss, "Because that hurt like hell!" He caresses my bottom with a rough hand, and even that contact is painful. He wraps an arm around me, lifting me a bit, swiftly taking one pillow from beneath my head and putting it under my lower abdomen, so my behind is protruding in the air.

"Listen and learn, Love." He tells me, "Remember, I'm educating you." He moves my damp hair aside and kisses my shoulder tenderly. I hear the undoing of his belt and fly, and hear the crackle of foil. I feel so stupid, not knowing what that is, but I know what's coming. "I can have you move in any position I want. You have to stay there. Lift your ass higher." He commands, and I find myself reddening. A conversation in this stance is _so _embarrassing. I rest my weight on my knees and chest, lifting my behind higher, like a dog doing a play bow. One of his hands is on my hip, the other nudging my legs farther apart. He moves my arms so they're straight, my palms flat against the wall and slowly, I feel him fill me. I bite my lower lip, my hands immediately clenching, scratching at the paint on the wall.

The motion he begins to pump at is strange; more of an up-and-down motion than a forward-and-back one. Oh, it feels so good. He quickens immediately, helping keep my posterior in the air while reaching forward, groping my right breast. "Ah… yes!" I pant, his low snarling echoing in the background of my own cries. I can feel it coming, extremely fast. I whimper and I repeat my explicit grunts.

I choke on some sort of a sob as he grabs my hair, pulling so my heads it tilted back and I'm facing the ceiling as I silently beg for my orgasm. I want it so bad right now, but I know it'd probably be a turn off for him if, in a sexual manner, I pleaded for him to give it to me, since _he_ wants to be the one on his knees for _me_. He keeps thrusting into me ruthlessly.

My noises become louder and more uncontrolled, and he snarls through his teeth audibly. "That's it," he hisses as my body basically concaves with my climax and I bellow to god. He follows suit, stopping his rhythm as I feel him ride off his orgasm.

He stills, pulling out of me as we pant.

Last night, when I said this would be interesting, none of this is what I had in mind.

* * *

_**Katniss is learning the ropes ;) Review please!**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Sorry about the long wait. I love getting reviews that I can laugh at, you guys crack me up3**_

My mom was a bit surprised when she came home and saw me and Peeta on the couch, separated completely. I was throwing animal crackers at him, and he was trying to catch them in his mouth. I'm still not entirely sure I like Peeta around Prim. She's been scurrying around all day yelling about how it's Christmas Eve, and now she jumps on the couch between us and yells it in my face.

I grab her shirt, throwing her off and spanking her. "Get lost, Little Duck!" I snap, and she scurries off to be scolded by my mother in the kitchen.

"You seem quite content with spanking as a punishment." Peeta murmurs. I toss another cracker at him. He doesn't catch it. He picks it up off the floor and throws it back.

"Don't start." I say, "Not while my mother and sister are here."

He nods curtly. "Yes Master." He grabs one of my ankles, pulling me closer to him. I whack his wrist and remind him my mother can see us. He ignores. "When will you finally do it, Katniss?" He murmurs.

"Do what, young man?" I ask, sitting between his legs and munching on a cracker, may I add it's not one that's touched the ground.

He processes his words in his head carefully. "I want you to take me." He whispers, "I'm becoming impatient. I've showed you how to do it." He cups my cheek as he speaks, and to my mother in the kitchen it probably looks like he's telling me he loves me. But then he crosses his arms.

My playful smile fades as I scoot back. "I don't want to beat you, Peeta."

"I didn't say I wanted you to, did I?" He challenges.

"Well maybe if you stopped acting so hot and cold, I'd do what you want!" I hiss.

"What?"

"You tell me you want me to take you and then you order me around. I don't get it." I slump my shoulders and look down at the cracker in my hand.

"It's because I'm a sadomasochist, Katniss. But I get it. I'll stop." He nods, uncrossing his arms and his whole demeanor shifts. He slinks back in his seat, looking at me with eyes that beg for me to give him an order. I don't know if I like it or not.

"What are you doing?" I mumble, leaning against his knee and picking at the seam of his jeans.

"You don't like it when I switch, so I'll stay where I want to be." He murmurs, not making eye contact once.

"Am I supposed to boss you around now?" I whisper as my mom passes. She sees me frowning at him, and breaks into our bubble.

"Katniss, Prim and I are going upstairs to wrap some presents. Don't come up." She says quietly, patting my shoulder.

"'Kay." I dismiss it easily, and my mom walks up the stairs, Prim scurrying after her. When I hear the satisfying close of my mom's bedroom door, Peeta goes on.

"Try it. For one day, Katniss. I won't touch you unless you tell me to and won't speak until spoken to. Starting now."

I purse my lips as he looks down at his lap, sitting stiff and proper. "Alright…" I grumble, smiling slyly and I pick up a cracker he dropped on the floor. I squirm on top of him, ordering, "Look at me." He lifts his blue eyes and looks into mine, his widening when he realizes what I want. "Open your mouth. _Do it_… wait, what am I supposed to call you?"

"Anything." He murmurs.

"Open up, _bitch_." I snap with a grin. He doesn't know whether he wants to smile or frown, but he opens his mouth. I place the dirty animal cracker in, manually closing his mouth. His face crumbles in disgust, and I laugh. It's priceless. "Chew it!" I command. By now I'm cackling so hard I lay down, gasping for breath. My mom comes downstairs again, frowning at us.

"What'd you do to him? What are you eating?" she asks curiously.

"He ate… a cracker…" I gasp between every other word, "that was on the floor!"

"Why did you eat it?" my mom asks Peeta, as if scolding him.

He pouts. "She told me too." He whines, sounding like a pathetic child. It quiets me as I get an image of Peeta as a boy, hiding from his mother.

My mom turns her back, mumbling, "Where did I go wrong?" She grabs scissors and disappears back upstairs, and Peeta goes back to his submissive self.

"I'm sorry," I say. He doesn't reply. I sigh, ordering, "Hold me." He shifts, sitting up and he pulls me into his lap. His eyes stay locked on the floor. I don't like this, not anymore. He won't look at me, won't touch me, and won't make me laugh. Suddenly, I can't wait for this day to end, and it's not because I'm excited about Christmas tomorrow.

This isn't a woman's job. A woman's job is to be soft and caring, not demanding and controlling. But I also don't want to be a cliché girlfriend and stand in the kitchen all day making sandwiches. Would he make me do that? When you think of someone who's a sadist, your mind goes straight to sex, but it's much more than that. It's a lifestyle, and not a good one. Do I want to be _his _sub?

"You confuse me…" I murmur, holding his head to my chest, "Talk to me."

"Yes, Master." He says, "About what?"

"Anything. I… I don't want to be your Dom, Peeta."

"You said you would for a day." He says, looking up at me with a frown, as if I'd betrayed him.

"I know. I will." I twist a hand in his hair, "I'm just telling you." He looks down again, a bit deflated and let-down.

"You need to know what it's really like before you turn it down. Okay? Like, in the bedroom." He whispers. I get a flutter in his stomach.

"What are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything. It's not my call."

I clench my jaw, standing. This has turned into somewhat of a challenge in my brain. "Go get our coats." I snap, and he nods, getting up and walking down the hall to the coat rack. I call up the stairs to my mother: "Mom! Me and Peeta are going to get some Chic-fil-A!"

"Do you need some money? If so, it's in my purse!" she yells. I do retrieve the money, but don't plan on using it. Peeta has his coat on, and waits quietly with mine in his hands, still not looking at me. He puts it on for me, and then drops his hands by his sides. He looks like he wants to ask me something, but keeps his trap shut.

I dig into his pocket for his car keys, putting them in his hand. "Drive me to your house." I demand quietly.

* * *

Peeta opens his door for me, and I step in, my hands once again shaking, but I clench them and look around. I really have no idea what I'm going to do. I close my eyes, remembering what I read on the internet about these things. I turn to Peeta, saying, "Take off your jacket and your shirt." He shrugs his coat off, tossing it on his couch, and then strips himself of his shirt. I admire his body for a moment, blushing.

"Little help?" I ask, cringing.

"Tell me where you want me to go." He says softly, hands clasped in front of him.

"Oh," I say, "uh…" Should I tie him up? There's a small table in the corner, and put my thinking cap on. "Come." He walks to me quickly, standing and waiting for more orders. "Take your pants off. And give me your belt." He undoes his belt, pulling it out and hands it to me, undoing his fly, pushing down his pants, stepping out of them. I kick his jeans away and point to floor, and he obeys, sitting. "Lay down and put your arms above your head." He sees the worry etched on my face as I kneel down, tethering his wrists to the leg of the table. I hope it's sturdy.

"Blindfold?" I ask.

"Up to you, Master." He says sheepishly. _Come on!_ I honestly would feel better if he wasn't staring at me during this. But I want this to be intimate. I think we might be passed intimate, since his hands are tied. I take off my jacket, chuck it, and then take off my shirt. I twirl it up, as if wringing it out, and put it over his eyes, tying it behind his head. I take a deep, shaky breath.

I stand up and undo my belt, and rid myself of all of my clothing. _Okay. I can do this._ This feels really wrong, not because we're about to have sex, but because I don't feel this is my place. _Okay. I'm naked. He has to be too. Oh god…_ I don't want to look. I'm such a wimp, but it's true. I kneel down, hooking my fingers in the elastic band of his boxers. "Lift your hips." I tell him, my voice wobbling. He obeys once again, arching his back I push down his last piece of clothing. I blush heavily when his… _erection_ springs into view.

I can tell I won't like this.

I crawl over him, kissing him nervously. "Katniss," He murmurs against my lips, "calm down." I pull away, and then nod, even though he can't see me. I take another deep breath, my thousandth one tonight, and sit up. I grab his organ, and he tenses, and slide him inside of me. He tilts his chin up and groans. I begin to move up and down, which isn't an easy rhythm to keep up.

"Move your hips." I say breathlessly. He tugs at his restraints as he moves his hips on command, pumping into me. "Ooh…" I gasp. I'm still the one doing most of the movement, and I can't find a good place for my hands, and it feels a lot deeper when I lean forward. I grope one of my own breasts without even realizing it, biting my lip and moaning. My hair flops over one of my shoulders, and I turn Peeta's head so it's not in his mouth. That'd be a turn off. He grits his teeth, a wiring vein visible in his neck.

"Move faster." I instruct, since the beat isn't quite right yet, and he does so. He lets out, a low, long groan. I lose myself, all my relevant thoughts disappearing as I focus solely on the intense feeling below. "Ah…" I cry. With every pump, Peeta pulls against the leg of the table, and it worries me. I grab his forearms, ordering for him to stop pulling. He wraps his hands around the leg instead, his knuckles white.

We go on like this for a long time, before I hit my wall, digging my nails into his arm and biting down on the inside of my cheek. Peeta follows close behind, arching his back and snarling, "Ah, _fuck_!" He bucks his hips, pulling himself out of me just before he comes. The sticky liquid gets on my lower back and him, but it's ignored. It takes me a minute to realize it wasn't a clumsy mistake, but he did it because he's not wearing protection.

We both slow down, panting and steeling. I lower myself, kissing him, and he kisses back.

"Now what?" I ask.

"Whatever you wa-"

"No. Tell me what to do. That's an order." I snap. I lift his blindfold to his forehead, raising my eyebrows at him.

He purses his lips, looking around. "You said you didn't want to beat me?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because… I want you to." He says, his eyes wide, wishing.

"I'll try it for you..." I pant. I learn he's not going to give me any more direction, since he slides his blindfold back down using his elbow. I stand, looking around, and then I get an idea. I go into the room where he keeps all his paintings, shuffling around until I find a ruler. I stop to collect myself, all of a sudden feeling shy about the fact I'm walking around in his house naked.

I don't want to do this. I know I don't but I feel I need to prove a point. Maybe to Peeta, showing him being beaten isn't all that great, or that it makes me uncomfortable. I head back out, kneeling by him. I read online that usually punishments are for sexual pleasure, and other times it's for, well, punishment. This is not for the latter, since I have no reasons to punish him. I push him a bit as I order him to lie on his side.

"Are you alright with this?" he asks. I grunt, which isn't a yes or a no. I position myself so I'm not staring at his behind, which I would find very awkward.

"Should I just… hit you?" I question.

"Yeah." He shrugs, "I'll tell you if you're doing something wrong." I take _another_ deep breath, gripping the ruler. Then, I bring it down on his bottom with a _crack_. He groans, pulling on his bounds in pleasure. Oh, this is so sick.

I set the ruler down, saying, Peeta, I can't. I can't do this." I bring my knees up to my chest after gingerly reaching out and pulling up his blindfold, taking it off of his head. He looks down on me as I try in vain not to look down at his erection. Tears come to my eyes. "I-I can't…"

His eyes go wide and he takes a sharp intake of breath. "Untie me, Katniss." He orders softly, and I undo the buckle of his belt, freeing him. I put a hand over my mouth as he brings me into his arms after sitting up. "Don't cry. Please, you should have told me no."

"I couldn't…"

"You need to." He lifts his knees so I'm trapped against his chest. I'm such a baby. Why am I crying? Probably because I can't _be_ this for him and he wants me to so badly. He tilts my head back and kisses me. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. I love you, Katniss."

* * *

_**Review?**_


	16. Chapter 16

I look up to him, wide eyes swimming in tears. He cups my cheek, wiping away the falling tears with his thumb, and I push into his touch. I want to say it back, I do… He searches deep into my eyes for my answer, or even the slightest response.

"I…" I breathe, and he begs me with those deep blue irises, "I can't Peeta. I can't say it." I sob. Neither of us is aware we're in the nude anymore, and a muscle in his jaw jumps and he nods.

"That's alright," he murmurs as I hide my face again, another wave of waterworks hitting me. "I'll get you to say it." My weeping quiets a bit as he says this, and I look up at him, perplexed. I'm shaking now. I always shake when I cry. "I have _never_ told someone I love them, Katniss. And the first girl I tell is _going _to say it back." That muscle in his jaw continuing to jump. He's not clenching his jaw because he's mad, but because he's holding everything back. I don't know whether to be scared or not. I look over to my shirt, wanting to put it back on. It'd be a barrier between us. "Say something." He urges.

"I don't want to." I say, still shivering as I gnaw on my nail, staring at the door. _I want to leave…_ Well this turned out well, didn't it?

"I'm sorry," he continues, "I should have never told you to do this to me… It's too early."

"Too early?" I say, frowning and looking up at him. "Peeta I told you I don't want to beat you. That's not going to change over time." My voice is stern now; angry. He takes a deep breath, bracing himself for some form of verbal lash-out, but I have nothing. "Just stop," my voice cracks, "Stop trying to mold me."

He blinks a few times in succession. "Are you going to leave me?" he asks, terrified.

"What?" I frown, shaking my head. "No. I'm not leaving you. I don't want to. But this… experience…" I try to let out a chuckle, but it sounds pathetic. "It was horrible. I don't like you being the-the sub and I don't like being in control. It's not right. I like you being… whatever it's called. A switch?"

"You do?" He sounds intrigued.

"Yeah. It's you. It's the you I know. You scare me as the sub, and I think I scare myself as Dom." He's touching my hand, staring at my palm as he runs his thumb over it. My other hand grabs my breast, hiding them both from view.

"Katniss…" He mumbles, looking away as he keeps his bottled emotions hidden, "You want me to turn it off, don't you? Like a switch, you want it all to go away. It doesn't work like that." I look at a freckle on his soft chest, knowing he's right. I try to defend myself anyway.

"I just want you to be normal."

"You want me to be normal?" he mutters with a crude chuckle, "Because I'm a freak now."

"Stop!" I snap, covering my face, "Just stop talking! This is fucking hard for me, Peeta! Just… slow down…" I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Do I want him to take his "I love you" back? "I've never had sex with someone before. And you… I don't know what I want to say."

"Just say it, Katniss." He grumbles.

"I'm afraid… I… I'm afraid I'll end up like you." I say, then quickly add, "But hear me out! I don't _want_ to like being hurt or hurting others. I just want to have a normal-ish relationship. I can adjust, but I can't be your Dom."

"I told you, I can't just turn it off."

"I know but… maybe we can try you being the Dom." I blink and draw circles on his chest. He's quiet for a while, before he nods.

"I'm okay with that, I guess." He mumbles, fixing my somewhat messy hair. It's an action that shows me we're okay for now. My mind wanders off, and I wonder what he plans to do to get me to say I love him. I remember saying it to my father and Prim. Not really my mom… I haven't said it in a long time. I get my bra, sliding my arms through and putting it on, as well as my panties. I get off of Peeta's lap and he slips on his boxers. He slumps his shoulders, not wanting to stand or speak. I sigh heavily as I pull up my jeans.

"Now I actually _am_ hungry." I say, brushing my fingers through my hair. He grunts, standing and getting redressed with me. I cling to him when he stands, and he exhales loudly, rubbing my back. I smile to myself, since he's loosening up to me. Maybe this will be better. I can't take beating him, but maybe-just maybe-I can live with him, you know, getting a little rough with me.

"You want something to drink?" he asks.

"Yeah, then we have to go back. My mom thinks we went out for food." He disappears into the kitchen, and then comes back with two sodas. He tells me we can drink it in the car, and we head out.

* * *

Peeta puts it in park in my driveway, and I stare at him. He's about to hop out, before he does a double take on me. "What?" he asks.

"You still want to spend Christmas with me, right?" He blinks, blue eyes widening. He nods quickly and I grin, leaning over the center console and kissing him. He deepens it immediately, cupping my face with both hands.

"Am I allowed?" He cringes as he questions.

"I think I can work something out." I murmur, brushing an eyelash off of his cheek softly. Isn't that good luck or something?

"You mean _lie_?" With a grin, he kisses me once more.

I twist a hand in his blonde locks, saying against his lips, "Maybe."

"You know I'll punish you for lying…" He bites my bottom lip, tugging, and I get that burning sensation down south. It soon fades when there's a tap on my window. I turn quickly, seeing Prim staring at us, shivering in the cold air. _Right. It's her night to take out the garbage…_

Peeta snorts, laughing to himself as he stashes the keys in his pocket and gets out. I do too, punching Prim, snarling, "Keep your mouth shut, Little Duck." She blushes, running in the house and Peeta comes to me, intertwining our fingers. I swing our locked hands, asking coyly as we walk, "What kind of punishments are we talking about?" I'm just trying to forget what happened at his apartment. _He loves me. He loves me and he's going to make me love him back_. It makes me want to pull my hair out. I have no idea what I want anymore.

"You'll see." He says, a small smile on his lips as he stares ahead. He's… disconnected. We walk inside, and my stomach growls. Peeta looks down on me, his smile growing, and I put a finger to my lips, motioning for him to keep it shut.

"We'll need to sneak some junk food." I whisper as I bring him over to the couch. My mother's in the kitchen, reading a book as she chews on her nail. I peck Peeta's lips. "I'll be right back. Sit." He plops down on the couch as I slowly make my way to the kitchen, tapping my mom's shoulder.

She turns, looking up at me as she takes off her glasses, smiling. "Hi honey. What's up?" She stands, leaving her book on the counter as she puts her glasses back where she keeps them, its own little spot on the counter, tucked between the fridge and the toaster.

"I wanted to ask you something. And it's going to sound weird and a little inappropriate." I mumble.

This intrigues her, and she stops, crossing her arms. "Ask away."

"Can… can Peeta spend the night?" She raises her eyebrows, shaking off her initial shock. I hold up a finger, saying, "Wait, listen!" I lean forward so I can speak without anyone else hearing. "He doesn't have anyone and he's not doing anything tomorrow. He's not giving or receiving presents, nothing."

She takes a deep breath, nodding slowly as she looks down. "I'm going to have to think about this." She mutters, gnawing on her lip. "If he does, you're most certainly not sleeping in your room together."

"I was thinking maybe he and I could hang out down here and watch some movies." I say, leaning against the counter.

"Katniss, I don't want you to feel like you have too much freedom." She looks at me, an inner conflict evident in her eyes. I look through the doorway at Peeta. This little protective part of me goes haywire when I see he's sitting next to Prim on the couch, and he's playing with some sort of toy with her. I ignore it. "Do you know what his mom's done to him?" That curious part of her is getting the best of her.

"She beat him…" I say, pain etching my face as I grope my own elbow, coping with the anger.

"Oh dear…" she breathes, putting her delicate hand up to her mouth. She comes to me, studying Peeta from here as well. She runs a finger over her bottom lip. "Okay. He can stay. He can go get his things while you shower, because you're gross." I give what's between a sigh and a laugh.

"Thank you, mom." I hug her, and she pats my back, her eyes still locked on Peeta. I scurry out to the TV room, pushing Prim off of the couch and sitting next to Peeta. "I have news." I say, thrumming a beat on his meaty thighs.

"And that is?" He smiles, brushing his knuckles over my cheek.

"My mom said you can spend the night here. So, you know, you can be with me on Christmas." I murmur, putting my hand over his.

His eyes grow wide, like a kid in a candy store. "You're… you're being serious?" I nod, and he grins, kissing me. I blush, pulling back as my mom raises her eyebrows from the kitchen.

I pat his cheek. "Maybe look around before you kiss me like that."

* * *

Peeta's gone and I walk to my bed with a towel around myself, looking at a picture on my dresser as my hair drips over my shoulders. It makes me stop and stare. It's of my dad, short and brawny. I wipe away a speck of dust from his face, stoically quiet as I gaze. I don't think I ever really admitted to myself how much I really loved him, or how much I miss him. I wince, blinking away the approaching tears. I pull open the drawer where I keep my bra's, which is quite barren since I haven't done my laundry in forever. My father's memory assaults me again as I find what I'd hidden when I was twelve. His ring. Our ring. I choke on a sob, picking up the small metal band.

My dad had gotten it in promise I'd always be his little girl. I stopped wearing _mine_ long ago. It hurt too much. In the past, my father was always on my mind, sinking me into a light depression. I clutch it hard in my hand. I know exactly what I'm going to do with this. I get dressed in old pajamas, stashing it in my pocket and going downstairs.

* * *

Peeta arrives at 9:00. I smile as he enters the living room after my mother let him in, and I hug him. "You look very attractive." I say. He's wearing thick gray Nike sweatpants and a tight fitting Rolling Stones t-shirt.

"As always." He flashes me a grin, patting my behind when my mother disappears. Prim is happy as ever, skipping around in her PJ's, actually excited for bed. She sets off to her room as I start a movie. "What're we watching?"

"Paranormal Activity." I say.

"Why?"

"Because I want to stay up with you." I mumble, kissing him before he pushes me down on the couch. "No." I say, pushing him back when he goes to kiss me again. I sit up, skipping through the previews and going to get us some junk food; some chips and soda. I bring it back to him, and he has a paper in his hand. "What's this?"

He hands it to me, saying, "It's your present." He hesitates, and then shoves it in my hands.

"Okay…" I look down, unfolding the paper, and a deep frown sets in my face. Peeta is studying me hard, taking slow, deep breaths. It's a black and white picture of a young boy, battered and bleeding, a strip of tape holding two ripped halves together. It was the picture I couldn't stop looking at when I first went to his apartment. "Why are you giving me this?"

"Because, I want to tell my story before you yell at me." He murmurs. "If you can't change for me, Katniss, you can at least help me. I have nightmares. I get too mad sometimes. But most of all, I want to be beaten. If you give me what I need, your love, I can _be _different."

"So…" I say, staring at him, "Why the picture?"

"I want _you_ to rip it in half." He makes a _'go on'_ motion. I take a deep breath, gripping both edges of the picture, and pull. The tear is satisfying, and I throw the scraps on the ground.

"So we're not doing this Sub Dom stuff anymore?" I ask. I don't know if I'd like that.

"Uh… no. I already told you, I can't just turn it off. But by being your Dom, maybe I can _try _to get over my past. But you have to understand… it's going to take a _long_ time." He scoots closer to me, grabbing my hands, and I lean forward, twisting my hands in his hair and kissing him hard. We've sufficiently ignored the movie and junk food so far. He wraps his arms around me, about to take over before I say something.

"I want to give you your present too." He nods, and I take the ring out of my pocket, setting it in his open palm. He studies it with narrowed eyes, turning and revolving it. I keep my tears down well so far. "It was my father's. He gave it to me in a promise I'd always stay dear to him. And I want you to have it so you remember you're dear to me." I can't hold the tears back now.

He looks up at me and says quietly, "I love it. Thank you." I crawl in his lap and kiss his cheek, taking the ring and sliding it on his middle finger for him. He kisses me, and this time, there's no interruption when he deepens it, our tongues battling in the passionate heat. I listen intently to hear if my mother's still awake. The house is silent and dark, except for the soft glow of the Christmas tree and the TV. He lowers me down so I'm pinned beneath him, and I grip his shoulders.

"Twice in one day?" I ask, looking off into the black sitting room, the moon hidden behind clouds, so it's just plain dark.

"You want it twice in one day?" He teases, nipping my earlobe. I nod, though I think I might die if my mom came downstairs during that.

"I'll tell you what," he murmurs, "I'll give you your punishment for telling me you might lie. I'm not going to allow that." Butterflies flutter in my stomach, and I nod again.

* * *

_**Review please ;)**_


	17. Chapter 17

Peeta gets me to my feet, and he has a wicked smile on his face. He pulls me into the dark sitting room, and sits me down on a chair with a fair amount of padding. It kind of looks like it should be in a castle. "Peeta, my mom-"

"I know. That's why if you make a sound, I'm going to spank you." He murmurs, kissing me, unbuttoning my pants. _Oh god, what is he doing?_ He tugs them down my hips, as well as my panties, and I blush beet red when he opens my legs, each one hooked around an armrest. I cover my face with my hands and he says once again, "Be quiet."

He takes each of my wrists and brings them down so he can see my face. My nails dig into the plush fabric in horror when he lowers his head and his mouth seals over my sex. I gasp, bucking my hips and hissing, "No, Peeta!" His hands grip my thighs so hard I'm sure I'll have bruises. "Stop, please…" This is so bad, so embarrassing. His mouth should be up here on my lips, not down there. I push against his head, and he grabs my wrist in a vice-like grip. I growl, snarling for him to stop once again. This is like when he and I had had sex for the first time. He forced himself upon me until I didn't fight anymore.

I give up as he begins to use his tongue, and I close my eyes, biting my lower lip. I whimper when he slides a finger inside of me. "Ooh… I hate you." I focus on the feeling, when I should be focused on how much noise I make, or he'll spank me. He sucks and licks and tortures me with his tongue, and I yelp when I feel his teeth on me. His mouth and fingers disappear, and he slaps me. Not in the face, not on the behind, but _there_. I arch my back but manage to keep my moan under control. One second he's licking the next he's hitting. Oh, it's hot as hell. He's licking again, and I turn my head, my breathing labored as he assaults me.

I try to close my legs when he's not expecting it, but he gets to his knees, lifts my behind, and spanks me as hard as he can. There's a loud crack, somewhat covered up by the television, and I clench my teeth, gripping my own legs. He leans forward, using a hand to cover my mouth, hissing, "Make one more sound, God help you." Maybe… this is a little too much. That spank wasn't erotic like it was last time; it hurt! I told him it hurt the other day but secretly, it was pretty sexy. But this is it. If I'm going to be with him, this is extremely mild compared to what I know he'll do.

He removes his hand, and kisses my sex again, licking and rubbing, an attack with his tongue and fingers. I lift my hands above my hand, gripping the back of the chair as I feel it coming. I whimper with every other breath, and he gives me another warning to keep it down. When it comes-when my body stiffens with a wonderful orgasm-I grip the armrests with white knuckles, trying not to cry out. It ends up being a mix of gasps and squeaks.

I pant, looking down on him as he pulls away, wraps a hand around my waist and pulls me into his lap. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to talk yet, so I keep it shut. He brings his finger to my lips, and I blush bright red when I realize what he wants. I grab his hand-fingers wet from being inside of me-and begin to suck, eyes locked on him. The moisture is salty and sticky, and I lick it all off.

He takes his hand back, twisting it in my hair and whispering, "I want to take you right here."

"No, my mom's upstairs." I breathe. It took a lot of fucking will to say that.

"Fine, you're right." He sighs, pushing me up off of him, and orders, "Put your clothes back on." I obey, wincing my I pull my panties over my behind. It hurts, and I have no doubt its red as hell. I pull up my pajama bottoms, and follow him back to the couch. I curl up in my lap, and he asks absently, "When does your mom leave?"

"Why?"

"I want you to spend more time with me." He says.

"More time with you? Peeta, I see you every day." I tell him with a smile. We're stretched out on the couch together, a mess of limbs.

"I mean, spend the night if I ask you and not have to have an excuse to come somewhere with me." He plays with a strand of my hair.

"I'm not going to wish away my mom, Master." I giggle, though he's quite serious. My smile fades when I see his blue eyes are kind of angry. "And I still have Prim."

"Yeah…" he grumps, looking at the TV again. I study his profile in the soft glow of the room, closing my eyes, committing them to memory. After a moment, my eyes won't open again, and I fall asleep.

There's a rustle in the middle of the night that I know is my mother putting out Prim's presents, but Peeta and I don't wake until morning.

* * *

Prim squeals, and my eyes pop open. I push on Peeta, who's lying on top of me, still fast asleep as Prim yells, "MERRY CHRISTMAS!" That wakes him. He sits up and I grunt, telling Peeta that he's heavy, and he has to get off.

He stands, rubbing his eyes and smiles down on me as I get up. "Merry Christmas…" He smiles and pecks me on the lips before my mom comes down slowly. He smiles at her, whispering to me, "Where's your mom's painting?"

My eyes go wide, and I whisper, "It's in my closet in my room. Go get it please." He nods, excusing himself as my mom hands me a box. She's wearing blue pajamas with small white polar bears on them, her hair in a neat, tight pony tail.

"Mom, I told you I didn't want anything." I say quietly as she watches Prim drool over her first present.

"Honey, it's something you need." She scolds, rubbing my hair, kissing my head. It feels foreign and awkward, since she never does these things… only Peeta does that. I open the box, now uncomfortable, and I see a bright, shiny white iPhone.

"Dear god, mom." I say, "How much did this cost?" I put it down on the coffee table, completely intimidated.

"Don't you worry about that." I hear Peeta coming back down, the picture in hand, and when my mom looks to him, she frowns. "What's that?" She asks. He comes to me, pulling the rag off of the picture, and I grin.

"Tada!" I point to the picture, "Your present!" She's silent as she puts a hand over her mouth. She comes closer, taking the picture, studying it closely. "Peeta painted it…" I add, pressing my cheek to his arm absently. He wraps that arm around me as Prim squeals from a gift she loves.

"I-it's beautiful…" She breathes, setting it down, before hugging Peeta and I tight. He makes a slight '_oof'_ sound, his eyes wide, and I giggle. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, mom." I say, pinching Peeta.

He jumps, clearing his throat. All he says is, "Yeah." Obviously, he really didn't like that hug. As my mother turns when Prim speaks to her quickly, I grab Peeta's jaw and kiss him roughly, though it lasts a nanosecond. His blue eyes are fiery and filled with desire now, and I think: _Great, what did I just buy myself into?_

"That was fun last night." He whispers.

"Says _you_," I mumble, "my ass hurts." He stills for a moment, narrowing his eyes. "What?"

"You need to tell me if I hurt you."

"I was kidding…"

"Well _I'm _not." He snaps quietly, making me sigh. This… this demanding, impatient Peeta _so_ needs to be worked on.

"I would tell you if you hurt me." I grouch, smiling slightly as I see a car in the driveway, a man getting out with a small dog under his arm. _Prim's going to flip_, I think.

"No you wouldn't," He says, snatching my attention again. I frown as I look up at him, and he explains: "You think I'll be mad if you even open your mouth. You can't be." As my mother opens the door, and watch her, and he rests his chin on my shoulder, rubbing my upper arms, his stomach to my back. My mother grins at the man as she answers, and they talk quietly for a moment. I gasp, going blind for a moment when she pecks him on the lips and closes the door, the man disappearing again. "You okay?" Peeta asks.

"Prim," she sings, dropping the puppy on the floor, and it skittishly creeps forward, close to the ground. Prim nearly screams, making the pup's eyes go wide. When it sees Prim and all her innocence, it throws its head back and shifts into a play bow, before bolting towards her. Peeta and mother are smiling, but I'm just staring at my mom.

"M-mom…" I mumble, and she raises her eyebrow, which makes me question if she even meant for me to see that. "Who was that man?"

"A friend of mine. Why?" She says simply.

"Do you kiss all of your friends?" I test my grounds. She gives me a shocked, and then hateful glare.

She gets closer, whispering, "Please don't start this today Katniss. Yes, we… may be a little friendlier than I've led you to believe…"

"You didn't even tell you had a freaking boyfriend, mom. I didn't know that man existed until I saw him on our steps, kissing you." I snap.

"It's because it's not entirely your business, Kat." She's trying desperately not to lose her temper with me and keep Prim sane. I open my mouth to say something, but she grabs my arm, telling Peeta, "We'll just be a moment."

"Ow, ow, ow…" I grumble as she drags me into the kitchen, stopping in front of the fridge.

"Give me a _break_ Katniss!" She hisses, "_Yes, _I have a boyfriend, it's not the end of the world. I know you can't stand the fact I'm moving on from your father, but I'm not. I'll always love him, but-"

"When did I say anything about dad?" I snarl; immediately I have a lump forming in my throat.

"You know it's true, honey." She says, giving me a '_come on'_ look. I look away, jaw clenched and arms crossed protectively. I try to avert the conversation immediately.

"That's like me not telling you about my first period or something. It's just not what you do." I murmur.

"Katniss, think about your situation right now. It is Christmas morning and you slept here unsupervised with your boyfriend, of whom, might I add, you've been spending an _awful_ lot of time with. I'm not dumb, I know what kids do, but I trust you, Katniss. I'm crushed to see you don't trust me back."

"But I do…" I blink, looking down shyly. Nothing more awkward than your mother hinting at the kinky, sadist side of your boyfriend she knows nothing about, huh? Or is that just me?

"Then, trust me on this, I will tell you more about him later. Not now, though, okay?" She says softly, and I nod, completely torn down now. I feel like curling up on the couch with Peeta now. No sex, no Sub-Dom talk, no hints at a weird, twisted forms of punishment, just listening to his breathing, watching the snow trickle down outside the window. My eyelids suddenly feel heavy with the dreamy image, and I turn and walk back into the living room. I press my forehead to Peeta's shoulder blade as he talks to Prim about whom she's calling Jack.

"Your mom thought it was a cotton ball. That's all you were supposed to get in your stocking. We made a mistake." He says, and she giggles and beams at him, Jack licking her chin. He reaches behind, touching my hips. We have a unfinished conversation I know he's determined to plow right through when we're alone, which immediately disfigures my elusive daydream. I kneel down as Jack comes to me, and I speak softly to him, petting his velvet-soft fur. He yaps, racing off. "You better go catch him, Prim." I say as Peeta picks up the iPhone on the table.

"Is this yours?" He asks. I nod. "Can I have it?" He gives a wolfish grin, and I frown. When I stand and try to snatch it from him, he holds it high above his head.

"No, you can't, sir." I say.

"You don't tell me no, Katniss. And you most definitely do not snatch things. I'm going to have to whip you into shape, aren't I?" He says softly, though his voice is hoarse.

"I'd expect no less, Your Highness." I say, looking up at him through my lashes, mostly to entertain him. I just want to sleep.

"Your Highness? I like that." He informs, "Though I prefer Master."

"I prefer Peeta."

"I don't." I sigh. I'm not in the mood to decipher what the hell that meant, so I plop on the couch as my mom reenters. Peeta sits next to me, still fiddling with the packaging of the phone.

Mother studies her picture, saying, "Peeta this is absolutely gorgeous. I can't thank you enough."

"Oh…" He says, looking up at her, "Oh, it's nothing really." He's tense, awaiting another hug. He sighs happily when he doesn't get one, and my mom mumbles to herself about where she'll hang it. I lean into him, running a finger up his arm as I curl into a ball. I rest my head on his shoulder, dozing off after listening to his breathing, and watching the snowflakes fall outside. I think about the "Your Highness" thing. Peeta would not be fit for a prince, but oh my, the thought of him as a king… yummy. Oh god, I just thought that. Honestly. I guess he kind of is a king to me. He rules over me with an evil ache, like most kings in the Disney movies. He doesn't wear robes all the time, though. I don't think kings wear Nirvana t-shirts. I think about that man my mom kissed as well. He was tall, with salt and pepper hair. That was all I saw. The puppy yaps, and I block him out by really falling asleep.

* * *

_**Review please!**_


	18. Chapter 18

_**Lyndrew ;) I told you I'd use your idea!**_

Every Christmas my mom takes Prim and I out for lunch, but Peeta won't come. I don't know why, but I really want him to. He offers to bring Jack to his apartment and watch him while we're gone, and I finally speak up.

"Peeta, please," I whisper, "come with me." He shakes his head, and I frown, pushing his coat off of his shoulders as he tries to put it on.

"Watch yourself, Katniss." He snaps, grabbing my wrist and throwing it off of him. It terrifies me, but I plow forward, wisely _not_ touching him this time.

"What's wrong? I thought you wanted to spend Christmas with me… _I _want you to spend it _here_." I clasp my hands in front of me so they won't reach out for him, but he ignores my words. "Peeta, what's wrong? Tell me! Why won't you come?"

"I do want to spend today with you, Katniss. But I don't have to tell you _anything_." He says softly. My mom disappears upstairs to find Jack, to give to Peeta so he can bring him, and so I venture out, touching him again.

"Yes you do." I beg, latching onto his arm, "I'm your girlfriend. You have to tell me. It's called _venting_."

"Katniss, at times you're my girlfriend, and at times you're my sub. Right now, you're my sub." He hisses, grabbing my arms so hard I squeak.

"Ow, okay! Go then!" I say suddenly, pulling away from him with a hurt look on my face. He studies me as mother brings him Jack. They have a few sparse words before he leaves.

"What's wrong, Hun?" She asks, patting my shoulder as she goes to clean up the wrapping paper Prim has left. Now, she's undoing her pigtails, whining about how Peeta took her puppy.

"He won't come." I say dryly, staring at the floor. What the _fuck_ got into him? He treated me like shit and looked down on me like a child. Every time I ask him about that, he'll probably just spank me and tell me no. A lump forms in my throat, and I think, _I can't believe myself! Or him!_

"Well, Katniss…" My mom starts, getting the garbage can from under the sink and placing it in the living room as she cleans. "Think about it. He really has no family or mother, and he just spent the morning with yours. How long have you two known each other, a few weeks?" _Barely…_ I shrug. "Well, he's… he's in need of some help, that's for sure."

"You're telling me." I mumble, rubbing my red wrist.

"What?" My mom frowns with wide eyes, looking up at me.

I panic, saying, "Nothing. He-he's just a little closed off sometimes." She relaxes, telling me, in time, he'll open up. _I don't know if I can last that long, Mom!_ Last night he told me he loved me, and he was determined to get me to say it back. This morning he says I'm barely his girlfriend… I moan, sitting on the couch as I press the heels of my hands to my eyes. "He's so confusing." I whine.

"I read about people like him last night online. You know, abused. They can have mood swings, depression, and anger." Something else almost rolls off of her tongue but she holds it back.

"What?" I ask, "Go ahead."

"They can turn out to be abusive to their loved ones as well." She murmurs, hands in her lap as she sits on the floor.

We stare at each other. I've never been a fantastic liar, especially not when I'm looking someone in the eye. "H-he would n-never…" I stumble over my words and can't manage to finish my sentence.

She sighs, rubbing her forehead. "I shouldn't have told you that. I know it'd scare you… Why don't you go take a shower and get dressed? We'll leave when you come back down. And don't worry about Peeta, Hun." I nod slowly, obeying her silently.

* * *

Coming out of the shower, I check my phone. Peeta hasn't texted, but Madge has. It says "MERRY CHRISTMAS! Party at my place on the 27th!" but I don't reply. I sit, staring at my phone with my wet hair dripping on my lap, and I text Peeta.

*Are you okay?*

In the time I'm in my room with my phone, he doesn't reply.

* * *

When we get back, it's about 3:30, and I leave to go get Jack from Peeta. I'm basically shaking on the ride there, thinking about what he might do and what might end up happening. Music doesn't calm me. In fact, when I can't find a good channel, I see it as a bad omen.

I park in the small, slippery parking lot, dropping the keys in the center console as I step out. My footsteps are measured and careful, halfway because of the ice, half because I feel like I'm stalking a beast. Will he even talk to me? Will he just hand me the dog and close the door? Will he even _answer_ the door?

I walk up to his apartment, knocking sheepishly. The more time that passes, the more nauseous I feel. Finally, I hear the scrape of little claws on a wood floor, and Peeta says something along the lines of, "Where are you going?" He doesn't sound mad… at least, not at the dog. Jack barks happily as the door creaks open. I'm standing back against the railing, looking up at Peeta through my lashes. I see a flash of white behind him that I know is Jack ripping and racing.

"Hi…" I say quietly. He leans against the doorframe, saying hi back.

"Are you going to stay out there?" He asks. I shrug, though I kind of want to.

"Only if you're not going to tell me why you freaked out this morning." I murmur. He sighs, running a hand through his hair, his breath turning into white smoke in the air.

"You're going to get sick, Katniss. Get inside." He orders, and I shake my head.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"I don't have to."

"Peeta, you can't treat me like this whenever you please." I snap, pulling away as he tries to grab my wrist. He grabs my upper arms, our faces close. "Tell me what's wrong." I demand bravely as the man that lives in the neighboring apartment watches us as his small dog sniffs around.

His blue eyes flash down to my lips. _Refuse him, _I remind myself, _if he tries to demean you back to his sub, refuse him._ I swallow hard as he says, "Come inside."

"I don't want to." Jack whimpers inside, growling as if he was tearing something apart. "Tell me what's wrong and I will." He glares down at me as his eavesdropping neighbor hurries back in his apartment.

"Are you denying me what I want?" He asks, trying to get me to forget my worries.

"Yes. And I'll continue to do so if you don't tell me." I warn. He knows I won't budge and that I'll leave if he doesn't obey.

"Come inside. I want to fuck you, _right now_." Butterflies roar in my lower abdomen, but I deny him.

"I can't. Not now. My mom sent me here for Jack and we both know what will happen if I come inside. And I can't just forget what you did this morning. It was weird."

He sighs angrily, but nods. He retrieves Jack, handing him to me. He's still angry, to the point he's glaring at me. "I guess that means I have to go." He doesn't really respond, but he closes his door and follows me as I walk down to my car. "Have you spoken to Madge?" I question.

"No," He grumbles, "Why would I have talked to her?"

"Jesus, it was just a question. Anyway, she's having a party on Tuesday." I don't want to outright ask him, _Can we go?_ Because right now the last thing I need is to sound weak. I do look to him expectantly though.

"We'll see." He mumbles, opening the back door for me to put Jack in.

"I'm going. I don't care what you say." I snap defiantly, making his eyes widen and spooking myself. I drop Jack in, close the door, and then hop in myself, leaving him behind. I shake my head at myself as I pull onto the main road, never looking back at Peeta.

* * *

I activated my iPhone and still haven't fixed all the contacts. For some reason, M-O has been left out, and I don't remember Peeta's number by heart. Two days have passed since I've spoken to him, and honestly, I feel like shit. I snapped at him and I don't know why. I guess I was sick of his damn moody problems. Hopefully, he's going to the party tonight. My mom thinks I'm just going to Madge's house for a sleepover, and if Peeta's not there, I actually will have one this time.

Prim is in the kitchen, feeding Jack some scraps from her dinner. I grab a glass of juice, settling down for a moment, collecting my thoughts. My mom squeezes my shoulder as she passes me, asking quietly, "Have you spoken to Peeta."

"No." I say, shaking my head. She blames herself, since she told me that he could be abusive to me. Maybe it actually did scare me a bit, as well as Peeta's show on Christmas morning.

"Well, you can go let off some steam with Madge. You haven't hung out with her in a while, and I'm glad you're doing it." She hugs me, and I feel tears coming on again. I cried last night because I was so fucking angry at myself. I'm sure Peeta's pissed at me, and I'm not sure I have the brains to figure out how to fix all this shit. I set my glass in the sink, and hastily leave.

* * *

I fiddle with my tight jeans as I drive. I'm not used to them, since I haven't dressed nicely since school was still in session. I pull into Madge's driveway, too scared to scope the streets for Peeta's familiar car. I park, hop out, and slip my way all the way to the door. I knock three times, and am answered immediately. It's a smaller party than last time, and it's not as rowdy. The music isn't loud, but instead, she's chosen soft carols to play. Madge squeezes me tight, her arms locked around me, and when she pulls back she says, "Katniss! You came!"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?" I ask. She doesn't answer, but just helps me in without skidding on the ice again. She takes my coat, asking me what I got for Christmas. "Oh, Jesus, let me tell you." I say, trying to forget Peeta, "My mom got me an iPhone."

"An iPhone!? You lucky bitch!" She giggles, and I grin at her. She wisely does not bring up Mr. Dom, and when someone else knocks, I walk into the living room without her. I check the room for a stalky blonde before carefully choosing a seat next to a lanky, muscular man. He's got tan skin, fiery auburn hair, and minty green eyes. I'm frozen immediately as he smiles at me. I didn't even realize he was staring at me.

"Hi," He says. _Oh my god, it's speaking to me…_

"Hi." I breathe, gaping at him. His teeth are perfectly straight and a blinding shade of bright white. I'm eager to introduce myself. "I-I'm Katniss." He chuckles, shaking my hand.

"Finnick." He states, and I blush. His skin in warm and rough, and he smells of the sea. This is so wrong… but he's _so_ gorgeous. He's very tall. I can tell since he sits on the edge of his seat and his knees touch the coffee table.

"How do you know Madge?" I ask, trying to swallow this childish feeling. I can't act like this every time I see a man that looks like a fucking god… But I've never seen someone so perfect.

"Awkward enough, I dated her a year or so ago." He says. He's not shy at all. He's facing me, ignoring the girl he was talking to a moment ago, "But, you know, some things just aren't meant to be."

"Tell me about it." I say, fantasizing about those green, deep, deep green eyes. He laughs, asking me if I'd like a drink. "Oh, uh yes please." I smile, and he nods, standing and going to the kitchen. I look around for Peeta again, feeling terrible I'm flirting with this guy. Am I flirting? Can I get away with _socializing_?

Finnick returns, handing me a soda, and I thank him. I hold off when I drink it, realizing it's not just Coca-Cola. It's coke and rum. I peer into the kitchen, seeing two big guys handing out drinks. I down a sip smoothly anyway. Finnick takes a sip of his as well, tilting his head to one side as he murmurs, "You have very gray eyes." I blush, seeing a figure in the doorway of the kitchen that makes my heart stop. I choke on a swig of my drink as I see Peeta, his arms crossed as he leans against the doorframe. Finnick asks me if I'm okay, and then follows my eyes. "Who's that?" He asks.

I can't lie. What the fuck do I say?! The most brash, absurd thing flies out of my mouth. "My boyfriend." I blurt, and his eyes go wide. "But he, uh, likes it when I flirt with other guys." Finnick is shocked, and I look to Peeta again.

He mouths, "No, please, go on." He gives me a wicked grin and my skin becomes overrun with goose bumps. There's nothing more petrifying than Peeta's wide, _'I'm going to make you pay for all of this' _smile. His hateful glare fuels my fire. I lean closer to Finnick, who's still stunned.

"He likes watching you flirt with other guys?" He asks, looking down on me. I nod slowly, inclining my head and looking at him through thick lashes. Finnick narrows his eyes, but he soon smirks. "I think I can do that for you…" I'm sure I seem like the biggest whore ever right now, but whatever makes Peeta mad, I'm happy to do. Finnick is loose and open now. A few times as we speak, he touches my knees or gives me a quick, naughty look. Peeta gets a drink, but after Finnick leans a little too close, he's done. He sets down his red solo cup, and walks this way. He jerks his head towards a dark hallway, and I'm shaking with fear and anticipation as I follow, excusing myself from my current conversation.

I walk down the hall, barely able to see his figure at the end. I approach slowly, and his anger runs off of him in waves. "What was that?" He asks, clam and so collected I shake harder.

"You want to just spank me and get it over with?" I mumble.

"You're due for more than a spanking, Katniss," He growls, pushing me into a dark room. "Although you'll get that, too. For the rest of the night, you're mine. I can guarantee you're not going to fucking like it." He kicks the door shut.

_**Review?**_


	19. Chapter 19

I back up against the bed, almost toppling onto it. He comes to me, snapping, "Turn around." Slowly, I follow his command, and he roughly puts my hair up, taking a hairband from my wrist. "Just like last time, you're not going to make a sound, understood?" I nod. I asked for this the second I even spoke to Finnick. I was being jealous and dumb; I knew he'd be here.

"Don't we need, like, a safe word or something?" I grumble, staying defiant until I can no more.

"No," he chuckles sourly, "_you_ don't get a safe word. Not yet. Take your pants off." I conform, undoing my belt and shoving my jeans down my hips, along with my panties. He knocks out my knees, catching me when I fall, but throwing me somewhat roughly onto the bed. "You will not, and cannot, make a sound." He says slowly, running his hands up my thighs and behind as I lay flat on my stomach. His rough hands feel like sandpaper against my generally untouched skin. I await the echoing crack of that warm hand coming down cruelly, and when it comes, I stiffen with a moan. Once again, this spanking is not pleasuring.

_One… Two…Three…_ I count the spanks as they come. With a whimper, I ask, "How many do I get, Sir?"

"Do _not_ speak." He snarls, giving me a spank that's harder than ever, and I squeak, though my face looks like I should be screaming. _Six… Seven… Eight…_ They keep coming. His hand moves so my skin won't numb; high on one cheek, and then low on another. I count every single one. Forty-eight. I get _forty-eight _raw, hard smacks on the backside. One for each hour I didn't bother to contact him, I guess. I'm limp and out of energy when he stops, standing. "Get up." He says, "Get your clothes back on. We're going to my house." I slip off of the bed, putting my clothes on as I sit in a heap on the floor.

He pulls me to my feet roughly, fixing my hair, before dragging me out of the room. He snatches my coat from the rack for me, and we escape from the house unseen. "I-I drove here, Master." I say. Might as well call him what he wants to be called to lessen my future misuse.

"We'll get your car in the morning. I don't trust you to be a big girl and actually drive yourself where I want you to go." He grumps, opening my door for me, slamming it behind me. He gets in the other side, starting the car angrily.

* * *

Peeta explained to me on the ride over as curtly as he could, that he would insult me, and call me rude names as he punished me, but I was to ignore them. They were to get him off, not to actually insult me. He opens my door for me, and the freezing air wraps around me. I've been squirming for the past fifteen minutes, my ass absolutely _burning_. I walk stiffly and uncomfortably in front of Peeta, up to his apartment. And when he unlocks the door, he spanks me. I squeak and walk forward. He closes it behind us quickly, saying, "Take off all of your clothes." I obey, stripping off my shirt and bra, dropping them on the floor. I take my phone out of my back pocket and place it on the small table by the door, then get rid of my pants and underwear.

"_Now _do we need a safe word, Master?" I ask coyly. Hopefully he'll just end up tying me up and leaving me there.

"Yes," he says, and I get a mix of emotions, from worry to excitement. "Pick a word, a weird one that I'll understand. Not stop, because if you say stop, I'm not going to."

I look around, racking my brain for a good word. "Basket." I choose.

"Okay, remember that. That is the only thing that will make me stop." He warns, taking off his jacket, "Not tears, not sobbing, not screaming." I swallow hard, but nod. He pulls me to his room, saying, "The rest of the night will not be fun for _you_, but fun for _me_, is that clear? If you use that safe word when it's not needed, there will be hell to pay."

"Yes, Master."

He ties me to his bed, my hands about my head and my legs wide open. I'm completely exposed, but at least I can see what he's doing. I grumble a curse word under my breath when he blindfolds me. It's quiet for a while, moving about. "Is this going to hurt, Master?" I ask.

"You're damn right, it's going to hurt." He snaps. I arch my back and growl through my teeth when I feel a sharp lash across my breasts. I cry out and whimper when he does it for a second, and then a third time. Then, the insulting comes. "You're mine, you fucking whore." He snarls, "I don't give a shit if you want someone else, you're mine. Say it."

"I'm yours." I whine, pulling against my restraints. Although I'm blinded, I can tell the lights are still on. There's a soft glow around the edge of the fabric that is my blindfold.

He whips me once more, demanding, "Louder_._" I repeat myself, and get the same result. "_Louder!"_

"I'M YOURS, MASTER!" I cry, "I'm yours…" I'm quickly draining, and his belittling words don't help. He calls me an assortment of names, from a cunt to a cocksucker.

When the whipping is over, and then comes the sex. I yelp when I feel him inside of me. He's sitting up straight, his hands gripping my thighs. He demands I tell him I'm a whore and that I'm his nasty slut. I whimper and wail the whole time, arching my back and squirming. He comes much faster than me, groping at one of my breasts, which makes me begin to bellow for him to stop. He's relentless and doesn't stop. When he finally pulls out of me, I wince at the tight, painful feeling.

He unties me, and I sit up. "A-am I done?" I ask breathlessly. I don't like this feeling of just being _there_, not intimately at all. I'm a useless sex toy right now.

I'm on my knees on the floor before I know it. I can sense what's coming, but nothing happens for a moment. There's a heavy sigh, and I frown. _Why is he doing this if he's not enjoying it?_ I hear the _chink_ of his belt buckle, and I feel the cool leather around my neck. Isn't this supposed to turn him on? Why did he sigh? So many thoughts run through my mind, and he puts a hand on my head, saying, "Open your mouth." With a small peep, I do so, and he fills my mouth. He begins to move, and to my own shock, I don't gag. Well, maybe once or twice. He uses the belt around my neck to keep me in check. His hips move back and the belt moves my head forward. He no longer speaks, just groans and growls in pleasure. I whine constantly, feeling like absolute shit. I'm tired, hungry and sore.

The taste is anything but satisfying when he comes in my mouth, and _that_ makes me gag. He kneels down-I feel his skins against my thighs-and clasps a hand over my mouth. "Swallow." He demands. I shake my head, and he says, "I'm done with you, Katniss. Just swallow." He sounds exhausted too. I swallow the sticky, salty liquid, and open my mouth to prove it. "Good girl." He says softly, patting my cheek. "You won't flirt with someone else ever again, will you?" I shake my head again.

He forces me to stand, and kicks me out of his room, tying me up in the bathroom, still naked, blindfolded and bound, and now I'm cold. "I'll come get you in the morning." He mumbles sourly. I'm tied to the toilet, so I can't lie down, no matter how a squirm, I'm uncomfortable. Peeta leaves, and I listen to him as he closes the bathroom door, and walks slowly to his room.

What was that about? Why is he upset _again?_ I try not to move at all, since the tile under my skin is warm enough. I lean my head against the toilet, and fall asleep.

* * *

I wake up when I hear Peeta out in the kitchen. I hear plates clashing together, and what sounds like the sizzle of bacon. I know it wouldn't be a good idea to call his name. I wait and wait, and finally, the door creaks open. I look in his general direction, and I feel his warm fingers brush my skin as he unties me. He pushes a shirt over my head, leading my arms into the sleeves, before he pulls off my blindfold. I grunt and close my eyes against the morning sun. He kisses my temple, murmuring, "You were a very good girl last night."

"I try." I say, "Though I didn't like it."

"It was a punishment," he says as I pull down the oversized shirt past my breasts. It's long enough so nothing shows. "You weren't supposed to like it. Did you forget our safe word?"

"No. It was basket." He strokes my cheek with his knuckles before he helps me up.

"I made you breakfast." He informs as he leads me by the hand out of the bathroom, "It's not usually what Dom's do, but it was your first real punishment last night." He shrugs, adding, "And someone's been blowing up your phone." I check it as he brings two plates to the small table. It's Madge, who's terrified. I left my car at her house, and she thinks I've been raped or something.

I text back. *I'm fine, I spent the night at Peeta's*

*Ooh la la* She replies, and I smile, but don't respond.

"Come." Peeta tells me and I obey, sitting next to him at the table, leaning into him. He's quiet as he munches on a piece of bacon.

"I still want to know why you wouldn't come one Christmas." I whisper. He sighs, looking at me tiredly.

"I don't want to talk about this know, baby." He says. My eyes light up at the nickname. "I'm tired…"

"It's because you stayed up to late beating your girlfriend." My humor does not amuse him.

"You made a damned safe word. Use it next time." He grumbles.

"_Calm down_." I say, leaning away from him now, "Just tell me what scared you off." I twist a hand in his hair, watching a muscle in his jaw jump. _He's no fun anymore_. "Stop being so… mad all the time."

"I'm not mad." He gulps. It's obvious he doesn't want to tell me. I give him a '_Really?'_ look, and he sighs. He rubs his eyes and slouches in his chair, growling audibly. "I shouldn't have stayed at your house the other night. I've never… I've never really celebrated Christmas before, I've never been hugged by my mother, and I've never seen someone so happy to open a present for the first time." His voice cracks and I croon him softly, crawling in his lap, pulling his head to my chest.

"I'm sorry," I say softly. He presses his face in the crook of my neck, and I soon feel the wetness of his tears. "I didn't know that would be… you know, what you took from it."

"Me neither. I-I just needed to get away. That was too quick, I thought I-I was going to have a panic attack." He takes a deep, shuddering breath, wrapping two warm, muscular arms around me.

"I never thought I'd see my big man cry." I chuckle, brushing my fingers through his hair as he stops the slight trembling. I rock him slightly and hum. His thumb rubs over the bare skin of my upper thighs, and I say, "You should have told me you were uncomfortable. I would have told my mom, she would have understood." He shakes his head. Suddenly, he's hit with another wave of tears, and he squeezes me to the point I moan in pain. "This is… just because of Christmas day?"

"I don't know…" He mumbles miserably, "I just feel like shit. I think I went too far last night." _Let's see, you spanked me, whipped my breasts, fucked me, made me give you a BJ, and then tied me in the bathroom… Not far at all. _"I just wanted to show you what I like… what I do. If I was going to scare you away, it would have been last night that I did."

"But you didn't, Peeta." I say, brushing a tear off of his cheek with my thumb. After I do that, he refuses to let me see his face, hiding it in my chest. _This is my Peeta. The ups and downs, from the "I'm going to fuck you" to the, "I'm so fucked up". _"I didn't like it, but I wasn't supposed to."

"I was _trying_ to scare you away Katniss!" He snaps, making me jump slightly. "I don't _want_ you to be with me! I'm just a fucking prick that wants to hit you!" He seems empowered by his outburst, taking a deep breath before he plows forward. "I'm going to hurt you and then hurt myself! You'll leave me the second I actually get you to tell me you love me! You can't-I can't-" I put a hand over his mouth, putting a finger to my lips.

"Stop." I say quietly, "I won't leave you. You're not a prick, and the only reason you'd hurt me is if I deserved it. And we have safe words." My phone buzzes, but I ignore it. I kiss him softly, and he clenches his eyes shut, squeezing my hips as he pressed his lips against mine harder.

"I love you, dammit." He says, "Why won't you say it back?"

"I can't yet, Master." I purr, "You have to make me _see_ that I love you."

He looks downcast sadly, nods and says dryly, "Don't you worry. I will."


	20. Chapter 20

_**A/N:**_** If you hadn't noticed, the 20 and 21****st**** chapters got deleted, because they sucked absolute dick. Excuse the inconvenience and possible confusion.**

We're headed back to Madge's house to get my car, and I wonder what she'll think of me. I'm sure she still feels some anger for what I did… you know, kind of ripping the carpet out from under her with Peeta. Hell, maybe she just thinks it's gross that we hauled ass out of there to have sex. Who knows?

Peeta drives with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh, his fingers thrumming continuously. _Is he nervous or angry?_ I can never tell anymore. What I realized yesterday _was _true. He is angry a lot more lately, but maybe that's the sadist in him. Maybe I'm not enough and he's just exasperated. _If last night wasn't enough I don't know what is…_ I mean, really.

"You're not going to talk to me?" I ask, since I have no idea what else to say.

His seemingly icy eyes flicker to me and he sighs. My hand is very invitingly resting on my knee, open for anyone who'd like to hold it, but Peeta keeps to himself. "I… what do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. Why are you anxious?" I question, placing my hand over his so it'll stop tapping. I push down, gripping his muscular thigh. "You could say, 'Katniss, I'm sorry I went overboard last night.' 'Katniss, fine weather we're having.' 'Katniss, you look lovely today." I cock my head to one side and smile at him, and yet again he doesn't return it.

"Stop," He says, giving me my hand back, "I already feel like an asshole, you don't need to taunt me."

I frown. "I'm not taunting. For normal people, this is called a conversation." I say slowly.

"Katniss, _that's_ taunting." He mumbles dryly.

I stare at the ceiling dramatically. "You're. So. Up. Tight." A chuckle derives from Peeta, and I look to him with a smile as we pull into Madge's driveway.

Then, a question pops into my head: What if _I'm_ the one getting tired of Peeta? These past few days he's been monotonous and… I don't know. Maybe there's a secret dread I don't know I feel when he touches me, a certain desire to flee when he calls my name.

"Hey," Peeta says for the fifth or sixth time now, but finally he wears a smile. "get out of my car." I play it off with a grin, and I virginally kiss his cheek. "I love you." He tries. He doesn't get a response. I watch him back out of the driveway, but as I go to open my car door, I stop, throw what miniscule things I have in, and head to the house.

I knock once and head inside. "Madge!" I call, nearly screaming when I turn a corner and bump into a tall, stalky figure. I look up to see gray eyes, full lips and a chaste smile. "Dear god, Gale," I pant, "You scared the shit out of me…"

He laughs; a whole hearted, unfamiliar sound. "Sorry, Catnip. I kind of wasn't expecting you either. What're you doing here?"

"Same to you. I-I just needed to talk to Madge."

"Diddo." He beams at me, and I feel the warmth of an unwelcome blush creeping up my neck from under the collar of Peeta's shirt, which I left on in exchange for mine.

_Katniss! What the fuck are you doing?! _I literally just got the shit beat out of me for hitting on Finnick last night, and now I'm standing here as red as a cherry as I gape at Gale. I _really_ need to talk to Madge.

"You look different, Kat." He says, inclining his head.

"I'm not a morning person." I say bashfully, now fully aware of myself and my hormones wrong doings. "Is Madge upstairs?" He nods, going to say something, but I duck behind him and bolt to her room.

"BYE!" He yells, heading back out. I hear the crackle of his car leaving the driveway when I find Madge in her room, getting dressed.

"Oh god," I mumble, closing my eyes. "Madge! I'm having problems!"

She laughs, either at my declaration or my reaction to her partial nudity. "Boy problems?" She asks. I nod, and she advises me she's dressed.

"I-I hit on that guy Finnick last night, and that's why I was at Peeta's. We had a fight and we made up but… wait, why was…?" My voice trails off as I look to her bed, her sheets a mess and dirty. I notice she's not wet, so she's not naked because she had a shower. "You slept with Gale?" I ask, a certain, dark part of me getting angry to a scary degree.

"Yes!" She squeals, "Oh my god, yes! It was _fantastic!_ He was so soft and yet he was… I sound like an asshole." She cuts herself short, "What were you saying?"

I can't tell Madge I got all hot and bothered talking to Gale. But… I could say I blushed, that's not a serious offense. "Then, when I bumped into Gale downstairs, I got all blushy and… bimbo-ish." She looks at me, and I tense, waiting for her reaction.

"Oh no…" She says, "You and Peeta are… are you okay?"

"For the most part. He-he told me he loves me and I didn't say it back. He knows and understands why, but-"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why didn't you say you loved him back?" She clarifies.

"I… I don't know if I do."


End file.
